Of Druids, Sorcerers and Oblivious Idiots
by Haleo6
Summary: Following the druids' return to Camelot, a druid ambassador visiting King Arthur's court reveals the existence of Emrys, sparking a city-wide search for the elusive sorcerer. In between hiding from Camelot's knights, keeping Morgana and Agravaine in the dark, and protecting the ambassador, Merlin struggles to keep his identity a secret and stay one step ahead of his pursuers.
1. Druids Need To Chill About Emrys

It had taken the druids almost a year and a half to trickle back into Camelot, uncertain of their welcome and suspicious of the King's sudden acceptance. Only once the raids on their camps had stopped completely for over a year did they start to tentatively reach out to the King. He had calmly allayed their fears and repeatedly assured them that they would always have a place in his city. The townspeople were more hesitant to befriend the druids, only grudgingly trading with them and eyeing them suspiciously all the while. Vendors would quickly sell them their wares with guards nearby keeping a sharp eye on them. Eventually, however, the King's acceptance of the druids spread and, all at once, it became normal to see druids wandering around the city. No one dared speak it out loud but in the privacy of their own homes and in the dark corners of the kingdom, people began to whisper about the coming of a new age; the city seemed to be holding its breath with each change the King made, as though waiting for something though no one could say what exactly it was.

Every time he saw the townspeople mingle with the druids, Merlin would feel like he might burst with pride. This was what he'd been fighting for, and it was worth all the pain and loneliness to see people accept his kin so readily. In his heart, he began to feel that perhaps the future he so longed for was not as far off as he'd thought, for if the druids returned to Camelot then magic would surely follow.

Not long after, druids began to appear at court and approach the King. The first to do so was Aithne, a young dark-skinned woman with chestnut hair curled neatly on her head. She was brought before the King amidst whispers and disapproving glares as the last remnants of Uther's court made their displeasure clear. Arthur stood up, interrupting their discontented mutterings.

"I, Arthur Pendragon, welcome you and all your kin to Camelot," he began. "For too long, the druids have been hunted and persecuted, but no more. The people of Camelot extend our hands in friendship and hope that we can begin an era of peace and acceptance between our people."

The druid bowed low. Twice. People murmured in confusion but eventually settled, concluding that it was probably some strange druid tradition. Merlin had a horrible feeling that it was not.

"I speak on behalf of my people, King Arthur Pendragon. We are grateful to you, and our Lord Emrys, for allowing us back into Camelot."

Merlin tensed as a sharp gasp broke through the uncertain silence following her pronouncement. He turned to look towards Agravaine, who was staring at Aithne in shock.

"Forgive me, but I do not know of a lord named Emrys," Arthur said after a short pause, trying to sound kingly rather than confused. "How could he have brought you back to Camelot?"

Aithne stared at Arthur disbelievingly, as though unable to imagine anyone not knowing of Emrys. After a moment, she replied, "I was not aware you did not know of Emrys' presence, Sire. Perhaps he fears what would happen should he reveal himself to you."

"Who is he?" Arthur seemed a bit impatient now.

The druid woman cleared her throat, disconcerted. "Emrys is a figure of prophecy who has been foretold from the beginning of time. He is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the Earth and his strength and wisdom are unparalleled," Aithne seemed to be picking up steam, and continued to ignore the horrified gasps that echoed through the throne room at the mention of the word _sorcerer_. Merlin dearly wished she'd shut up. "He is destined to bring about an age of peace between magical and secular peoples, and guide the Once and Future King who will unite the lands of Albion."

_Please change the subject, please change the subject, please change the subject_,Merlin prayed. Was it too much to hope that Arthur would just drop it?

"... I'm afraid I don't understand." Apparently it was. "Do you mean to say that there is a sorcerer within my court?"

In any other circumstances, Merlin would have found the stupidly alarmed look on Arthur's face comical. You know, if his life wasn't currently in the hands of a seemingly obsessed druid.

"You need not fear, Sire. Lord Emrys serves you and is loyal to no one else," Aithne swore. For some reason, Arthur didn't seem all that reassured.

Trying to ignore his flushed face, Merlin glanced at Agravaine, only to find him staring intently at Aithne, barely able to conceal his excitement. Merlin had a feeling that, by the end of the day, Morgana would know of everything that had been said in this room.

"Why would any sorcerer serve me?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Because you are the Once and Future King of Albion, of course." This pronouncement was met with silence. Aithne continued, "My people are happy to serve you, as our lord Emrys does."

"The use of magic is outlawed within Camelot," Arthur said sharply. _No, really? We couldn't tell_, Merlin thought. "I cannot allow sorcery to run unchecked through my kingdom. Who is this sorcerer you speak of?"

Aithne stiffened. "I would not betray Emrys, Sire. No matter the cost," she said, anger colouring her voice. Merlin just barely held in a sigh of relief at that. He hadn't thought that a druid would willingly reveal his secret but he feared what Arthur might do should Aithne continue to deny him answers. What_ Agravaine_ might encourage him to do.

Thankfully, Arthur seemed to notice the woman's poorly concealed outrage and must have decided not to cause the druid ambassador further offense, for he quickly dropped the matter. "I understand. I thank you for coming on behalf of the druids and welcome you to stay in the castle. We shall hold a feast tonight to celebrate the peace between our peoples and the return of the druids to Camelot," he announced to smooth Aithne's ruffled feathers and assure her that she was still welcome in Camelot.

"Thank you for your generosity, Sire," Aithne replied gratefully, relaxing now that she was no longer being asked to betray Emrys. She bowed twice, much to everyone's continued bemusement and Merlin's mortification, and left the hall to be escorted to her room.


	2. Sorcery! In Camelot? Ridiculous

**Hello, friends. I just wanted to let you know that I'm currently looking for a beta reader, so if you have any suggestions/would like to be my beta reader, please let me know!**

**And here's the second chapter! Discussions are had, everyone is an idiot, Merlin is tired, and a new character is introduced!**

* * *

Merlin scowled as he watched Arthur, Agravaine and the Knights lounge about Gaius' workshop for a "Very Serious Meeting, _Mer_lin", heedless of his precious portions and equipment. Percival had already dropped a beaker, Gwaine was carelessly fiddling with Gaius'_ delicate _experiments, and Agravaine's mere presence was enough to make Merlin's blood boil. Meanwhile, Gaius just stood there with a look on his face that said "I'm too old for this".

"I don't want to offend the druids when our newfound peace is still so fragile. They barely trust me as it is and I don't want to lose their faith," Arthur was saying, "but I can't simply ignore the fact that there is a _sorcerer _living in my city. Maybe even in my castle."

He looked like he was about to continue but quailed under the force of Gaius' infamous Raised Eyebrow.

"Sire, I understand your concern, but surely you see that it is completely unnecessary?" Gaius said. At the uncomprehending looks everyone sent his way, he clarified, "Aithne said that Emrys is loyal to you. It sounds like this sorcerer has been living here for quite some time. If he is the most powerful sorcerer to ever exist, as the druids claim, and if he truly meant you ill, then he certainly could have acted against you long before now, and most likely succeeded."

Arthur and the Knights seemed to be absorbing this, seeing the logic of it.

_Wait for it, _Merlin thought.

Agravaine opened his mouth.

_Ah, there it is._

"Be that as it may, I must disagree with you, Gaius," the pest interjected. "He may not have attacked yet but who is to say that he never will? He is a _sorcerer_; they cannot be trusted." He turned to Arthur, and the look of concern on his face was so obviously faked that Merlin wanted to scream, or shake some sense into Arthur. Or both. "There are no _good sorcerers_. Have we not seen the corruption and evil that follow the use of sorcery and spread like a plague? If you ignore this, Arthur, what kind of message will that send to our enemies? They would perceive it as _weakness_." And then, the clinching argument: "Your father never would have allowed this."

Arthur tensed and nodded, his face set. Merlin's heart sank because he knew that Arthur's resolve had hardened; nothing would stop him from searching for Emrys now.

"You're right as always, Uncle. I cannot condone the use of magic," he announced in a hard tone. Merlin heard it all through the ringing in his ears. "We must find this sorcerer before he harms the people of Camelot, even if the druids do not like it."

"Of course, Arthur. Shall I order the guards to bring the druid woman in for questioning?" Agravaine inquired smugly. Merlin wanted nothing more than to rip that infuriating smirk off his face and was in the middle of imagining Agravaine bleeding out when Leon interrupted his thoughts.

"She is the druid ambassador," he pointed out. "Her people will not take kindly to her being treated like a common criminal."

The Greasy Bastard waved away Leon's protests. "The woman _is _a criminal if she is protecting a sorcerer. We cannot afford to be lenient when it comes to the use of magic, Sir Leon."

"Arthur, please, the druids' faith in you is fragile still," Merlin entreated, looking toward Arthur pleadingly. "They have only just started to believe that you will keep your word and protect them. Hurting this woman, _interrogating _her... it will undo all your peace efforts."

Arthur was silent for a moment, thinking (and wasn't that a strange word to associate with Arthur), then nodded in agreement. "For once, you may actually be right, Merlin."

Agravaine certainly didn't like _that_. "Arthur, you cannot tell me you mean to let this druid go unpunished? She is harbouring a sorcerer, and we need her to-"

"No, Uncle. We will find this _Emrys _without questioning her. The druids will never trust me if I harm or disrespect their ambassador."

"But, Arthur-"

"My decision is final," Arthur stated. "Aithne is an honoured guest and is to be treated as such. Order the guards to begin searching for the sorcerer. We'll start with the castle."

"Of course, Sire." Agravaine swallowed his protests. He walked out of Gaius' chambers and Merlin had to admit that he hid his frustration well, for he seemed completely calm and unbothered.

After Arthur and the Knights left to assist with the search, being as loud and annoying as they always were, Merlin snuck out to find Agravaine. He figured the man would probably be eager to inform Morgana of the day's events. Weaving through the corridors, he made his way into the courtyard just in time to see Agravaine ride off outside the gates. He debated following him for a moment but decided that there wasn't much yet the traitor could tell Morgana about Emrys that she didn't already know. Huffing in annoyance, Merlin turned back into the castle. It didn't matter how much proof he had of Agravaine's betrayal because Arthur would never think ill of his uncle. Really, the smarmy bastard didn't even _try_ to hide his victorious smirks when anything went wrong, or his late night ventures into the forest to visit Morgana, yet Arthur continued to trust him above all others. How much of an oblivious idiot could one man be?

So maybe Merlin was a bit bitter about all of it. Just a bit. And it was completely justified. After all, who had spent years serving Arthur despite his ridiculousness? Who had saved the prat's life hundreds of times? Who put up with his angst and pining when it seemed like he could never be with Gwen? It certainly wasn't _Agravaine_. And yet, Arthur listened to him rather than Merlin.

Arthur was an idiot.

As he walked past the guest wing, a frightening thought made Merlin freeze in place, his face paling dramatically (which was saying something, considering how pasty he normally looked. A certain Clotpole mocked him endlessly for it). Fawn, a sweet-tempered servant who worked in the palace kitchens, saw Merlin and stopped next to him, looking around to see what had him looking so alarmed.

"Merlin? Is something the matter?" When she got no reply, Fawn continued, "Are you ill?"

Merlin shook himself and faked a smile in her direction. "No, no, I'm fine." She looked at him doubtfully. He was still dreadfully pale. "Really, I just... remembered something. I'm alright."

"Hmm..." She didn't seem convinced but decided not to push the matter just then. "Well, if you do need to talk about whatever it is, let me know. I just managed to sneak away some meatballs and cheese from the kitchens."

"Thanks, Fawn," Merlin said with a more convincing grin. Despite her apparent meekness, the servant was one of the few people in the palace who dared to make fun of the more obnoxious nobles with him, particularly Arthur. She, Gwen and Merlin often met up to gossip about the painfully embarrassing scandals and drama surrounding Camelot's aristocrats.

As the girl left, Merlin returned to his previous line of thought and he hurried to Aithne's chambers. If Arthur refused to question the druid about Emrys' identity, would Morgana have Agravaine kidnap her and do it herself? She had taken Gaius to torture the information out of him just a few weeks ago, after all. Merlin knew it would be too risky for Agravaine to kidnap the woman the same day she arrived, and right after he'd insisted on interrogating her, too, but he couldn't help but worry anyway. Morgana wasn't exactly sane these days so he could no longer predict her actions, and Agravaine would do anything she asked of him. It was a bit pathetic, really, that these two were currently Camelot's greatest enemies.

He reached Aithne's room and knocked quietly. After a few moments, a soft voice called for him to enter. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the room and had to pause for a moment, disoriented. Aithne had somehow already managed to decorate her new room, and it seemed her homesickness may have caused her to go a bit overboard. Merlin counted no less than six potted plants and one that seemed to be growing out of the wall somehow (he suspected the druid had used something Very Illegal to make that happen...), as well as countless little shells and bits of leaves that were arranged artfully on the shelves. He wouldn't be surprised if he found a hamster poking its head out the druid's dresser any second now.

A dramatic gasp interrupted Merlin's examination of the room. He turned away from the Suspicious Dresser to find Aithne falling to her knees and staring up at him, eyes wide with awe. Oh, God. This couldn't be really happening.

"Please, don't do that," Merlin said desperately, his face flaming. Hell, his entire _body_. "You don't need to bow to me; I'm just the King's manservant."

Aithne gasped again at that. "My lord, I would never presume to be so disrespectful! You're- Not even the King- I wouldn't- _Emrys_-"

"Please, stand. I'm no better than Arthur, or any other man." Remembering what he had come for, Merlin added, "There is something I must speak with you about."

"Of course, Lord Emrys," Aithne replied as she reluctantly rose, "I would be honoured to help you."

Merlin winced. "Could you please call me Merlin while you are here?" At her horrified look, he explained, "It's just that the Knights are now searching for a sorcerer named Emrys. You must pretend not to know me, or I will be caught."

"The King would harm one who has served him so faithfully?"

"The King doesn't _know _what I've done for him," Merlin sighed. "All he knows is that Emrys is a sorcerer, and therefore could not have saved his life so many times. Not without an ulterior motive."

The druid woman nodded her understanding. "I will not reveal you, Emr- Merlin."

"Thank you," Merlin said with relief, amused despite himself at how uncomfortable Aithne seemed about calling him _Merlin_. After a moment, he added, "I must leave soon, but there is something else I muse ask of you. Lord Agravaine, Arthur's uncle, is a traitor allied with Morgana." Aithne gasped, and Merlin had to suppress a grin. She really did that a lot. "Morgana wishes to find out who Emrys is and she will stop at nothing to get that information, so you must be cautious. Less than a month ago, she and Agravaine kidnapped Gaius to force him to reveal my secret and they will not hesitate to do the same to you."

"Do not fear for me, Merlin. These cowards will find me tougher prey than a helpless old man," Aithne replied stonily, her eyes like chips of ice. Merlin almost felt bad for Morgana and Agravaine. Almost.

"I know you can take care of yourself, but there's no harm in being careful. Don't go anywhere alone. And I'll do my best to keep an eye on you and Agravaine."

The woman bowed low, pretending not to hear the embarrassed noise Merlin made. "Thank you, my lord- Merlin," she corrected with a wry smile.

Merlin nodded back appreciatively, satisfied. Aithne was warned and, for now, the danger was minimal.

"I look forward to seeing you at the feast, Aithne." He bid the ambassador farewell, leaving the room as silently as he'd entered it, and he never noticed the slim figure slipping away quietly as he walked past.


	3. Why Do All Sorcerers Go To Camelot?

**A longer, less plot-heavy chapter this time (right up until the end...) about Merlin's friendships with Arthur and Fawn, because the platonic relationships are the best thing about this show tbh. Not sure if anyone can tell where the story's going but let me know what you think!**

**I've been in Turkey with very weak wifi the past few days and I've had nothing but time, so expect the next chapter sometime this week (if I can still find a connection) :)**

Sometimes, Merlin really felt like the court jester. Feasts meant Arthur took every chance to mock him, making the surrounding knights and nobles roar with laughter, and his own natural clumsiness didn't help. This feast was no different, except for one thing. The guest of honour was a druid. And she Did Not Appreciate Arthur's jokes at Merlin's expense.

"Is the food to your satisfaction, Ambassador?" Arthur asked, puzzled by her tense silence.

Aithne pasted a smile on her face. "Yes, my lord. This is better fare than I'm used to."

She looked over Arthur's shoulder at Merlin and met his pleading gaze.

_Please, at least pretend to be enjoying yourself_, he thought at her. He hoped she would not blow up at one of Arthur's so-called 'jokes' and reveal him.

A hand on his elbow interrupted his musing, and he jumped, dropped his wine pitcher onto Arthur's back and slipped in said wine. For a few moments, he just lay there staring at the ceiling, anticipating yet more shouting and insults from the Clotpole, and wondered why he had ever come to Camelot.

"Merlin, you _idiot_!" Arthur yelled. Merlin exhaled and finally stood up. "Can you ever actually do anything without messing it up? My clothes are soaked!"

"So are mine, Sire!" Merlin replied cheerfully, then dodged the goblet thrown at him. Honestly, Arthur was like an overgrown toddler sometimes.

Arthur looked like he was gathering himself up for a good, long rant about Merlin's usefulness- or lack thereof- as a manservant, when Aithne gently said, "I'm certain he didn't mean to, Sire. He was just startled."

Merlin nodded innocently, hiding a smirk at the look on Arthur's face. The King definitely did not enjoy being scolded by the druid like a child. Although, Merlin reflected, he _was _a child.

After a pause, Arthur settled on saying, "Clean this up, _Mer_lin. And do try not to drop anything else, will you?" His expression promised unpleasant consequences for Merlin later on when they were alone. Merlin gulped and nodded weakly. He could already almost feel his bones aching from the knights' blows during practice. At least, they called it practice. Merlin thought it was more like a game of Who Can Cause Merlin The Most Pain Without Leaving Permanent Damage.

As he turned away to start mopping up the spilled wine, bemoaning his terrible fate all the while, Merlin remembered what had caused him to jump in the first place. Looking around, he saw Fawn standing sheepishly in the corner. He grinned and beckoned her over, trying not to laugh at how she was shooting wary glances the King's way as she walked over to him.

"I'm so sorry, Merlin!" she cried. "I was only trying to get your attention. The King is going to be even worse to you now."

Merlin laughed and waved away her concern. "Don't worry about it, Fawn. I've made him angrier in the past and managed to survive it. Though, you're definitely right about him being even more of a prat now." He leaned closer and widened his eyes dramatically. "He might even make me wash the knights' socks."

Fawn snorted. "You poor thing. I can think of no worse fate."

"I can, unfortunately," he moaned long-sufferingly. "Live with Arthur long enough and you'd be able to, as well."

"Enough chitchat, Merlin! Don't you have something you should be doing?" Arthur called from the table. "Your _job_, perhaps?"

"Yes, of course, Sire. I'm doing my job right now," Merlin replied without looking. It always annoyed the prat when he did that, so he knew to dodge whatever Arthur threw at him without looking, too. He glanced down. Ah, a piece of cheese. Their king really was charming.

"Sorry, Fawn, but I really do need to get back to work," Merlin said apologetically. "My employer is an ass."

"Oh, of course, Merlin. Just," she paused, then seemed to gather up her nerve, "just find me later, alright? We need to talk. It's… it's important."

"Sure, yeah. As soon as I'm done with my chores for the night?"

Fawn nodded quickly with an apprehensive smile, then, after one more fleeting glance at Arthur, scurried away. Merlin watched her go with a frown. She'd been behaving oddly and seemed jumpy, almost… afraid. The girl wasn't easy to frighten, he knew. He'd seen her nod demurely at enraged, violent nobles, then mock them as soon as they gave her their backs, so it couldn't be anything of the kind. And all the odd looks she kept shooting Arthur… He'd thought at first that she may have been afraid that he would blame her for the spilled wine but it was obviously more than that. Were it any other noble, Merlin might have thought he'd hurt her in some way but this was _Arthur_. Merlin couldn't fathom why Fawn would be wary of him.

Picking up the cloth he'd used to mop the wine, Merlin made his way to Arthur's chambers and quickly laid out some clean clothes for when the King returned. Figuring he might as well finish up some of his chores to free up some time for meeting up with Fawn later, he lost himself in sweeping floors, fluffing up pillows and drawing baths until Arthur returned from the feast.

The King of Camelot opened the door and almost tripped over his own feet, freezing in shock. He couldn't believe his eyes. Something Very Strange was happening. Arthur pinched his arm.

"Oh, for God's sake, Arthur, it's not that strange!" Merlin huffed.

"Merlin, you're _doing your chores_. Just like that. Without prompting, and before I even returned from the feast. It is that strange," the Clotpole retorted. Rubbing his eyes one more time just to make sure he wasn't sleeping (and to annoy his idiot manservant), he peered at Merlin closely. "You're not ill, are you?"

"No, you prat." He knew it was only meant to be a joke, but Arthur's casual dismissal of Merlin and his abilities had always hurt more than he wanted to admit.

"Possessed? Enchanted?" Arthur paused, then asked suspiciously, "Are you even Merlin?"

"I wish I weren't," Merlin muttered. He did know Arthur was joking (mostly) but it still stung that he thought Merlin was lazy, or idle. He was a good, hardworking manservant, really, and he did all his chores as early as he could. The only problem was that wasn't actually early at all. Between having two jobs with two very demanding masters, spying on suspicious characters who visited Camelot (how else would he have always known about threats to the kingdom before anyone else?), running around saving Arthur's life, and practicing magic to get better at saving Arthur's life, Merlin barely had time to sleep, let alone polish Arthur's boots. He was basically a servant, physician, advisor, spy and occasional assassin, all in one skinny, goofy package. Not that he got the slightest bit of credit for any of that.

For once, Arthur actually seemed to notice his melancholy, and he wandered closer, biting his lip. After a moment, in which Merlin stared sadly at the mop in his hands, Arthur tentatively asked, "What is it this time?" When he got no reply other than a small shrug, he gathered his thoughts, trying not to seem concerned when he was, in fact, very concerned. "Come on, Merlin, I was only joking. I know you're trying your best. Of course, your best isn't much, but I admit you're not a _completely _terrible servant." _There_, Arthur thought in satisfaction. _That was comforting but not too girly, wasn't it? It will cheer Merlin right up._

It did not. In fact, it was probably the least comforting thing that had ever been said in the history of mankind, but knowing what a complete moron his friend was, Merlin understood what he meant and smiled. So, at least the sentiment had cheered him up a bit, even if Arthur was terrible with words and really needed to be more in touch with his emotions.

Seeing Merlin's smile, Arthur counted it a victory and mentally patted himself on the back. "That's better, Merlin. Why don't you have the rest of the night off?"

Merlin's head jerked up. It was his turn to pinch his arms, though it made Arthur roll his eyes. "What, really?"

"_Yes_, Merlin. Go sleep," he ordered. Getting an unpleasant thought, he added, "That means _actually _sleep. No going off to the tavern or I'll make you scrub the floor of the Great Hall with a toothbrush, understood?"

"Yes. Clotpole," Merlin muttered in reply. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur simply nodded and waved him away, congratulating himself. He really was a generous and wonderful master. Merlin didn't know how lucky he was.

Merlin slipped away eagerly and headed to the palace kitchens to find Fawn. And maybe those meatballs she'd mentioned, too. Rounding a corner, he halted in his tracks as he spied Aithne and Agravaine conversing at the end of the hallway. He quickly snuck into an alcove, grateful that neither of them had noticed him, and waited for them to pass by his hiding place to eavesdrop. After a few moments, their voices reached him.

"-for you, Lord Agravaine," Aithne was saying in a firm voice. "As I have already told King Arthur and the court, I cannot reveal Emrys' identity. No druid would."

"Surely not all druids know who is? That wouldn't be a very well-kept secret," was Agravaine's casual reply, and Merlin's heart dropped. If Aithne told him that they did all know, then there would be nothing stopping Morgana from capturing some nameless druid, who was less noticeable than the ambassador, and torturing the information out of them.

_Please, lie to him_, Merlin thought. _Come on, Aithne, don't give the pig more information._

Thankfully, the druid seemed to have thought of the same thing Merlin did for she smoothly lied, "Of course not. Only few are trusted with such a secret. It is a great honour." _Oh, thank God._

"I see. Well, thank you for your time, Ambassador. I won't keep you any longer…" Their voices began to drift away as they turned onto another hallway, and Merlin finally pushed himself out of the dark alcove, following along behind them only long enough to make sure that Agravaine actually left and Aithne made it safely to her room, before continuing to make his way to the kitchens. He hadn't expected Agravaine to be so bold as to try to trick the information out of the ambassador herself so unsubtly. The man must have been under a truly great amount of pressure from Morgana to find her nemesis if he was getting desperate enough to outright ask Aithne for Emrys' identity. It was reassuring, at least, to know that Aithne would not betray him.

When he finally reached the palace kitchens, Merlin put the conversation out of his mind and looked around for a certain tiny red-headed servant. This was easier said than done, considering how crowded the kitchens always were. Finding someone as short as Fawn in the mess was nigh impossible, but Merlin persevered and eventually, he caught sight of her drying a pot at the left end of the room. Dodging some of the servants running around, and simply pushing the rest out of the way (it was _very _crowded, alright? And he always pushed very gently), Merlin finally reached Fawn's workstation, panting for breath and fanning his face.

"Merlin!" the servant cried happily. "You're here! I'm almost done. Let me just put these last few pots away, then we can leave."

Merlin nodded placidly and occupied himself with swiping food off the cooks' dishes when they weren't looking, until Fawn poked at him and dragged him out of the kitchen. He shook his head as they left, disoriented. His ears always rang every time he'd leave the kitchens and enter the blissfully quiet hallway. Did they all have to be so _loud_?

"Come on, Merlin. Show me what you've got," Fawn said eagerly.

Merlin complied with a grin, pulling three loaves of bread, a few slices of ham and cheese, an apple and five grapes out of his pockets. His friend whooped and gave him a delighted hug. Once they reached the empty room they and Gwen had commandeered for times such as this, the two sat down to enjoy their feast.

"Was Arthur too harsh on you?" Fawn asked guiltily.

"No, no, he didn't do anything," Merlin assured her, chewing loudly to annoy her. She huffed and gave him a swift kick to the shins, which shut him up pretty quickly. "He actually felt bad about being an ass and gave me the night off."

The girl's eyes bugged out. "He- really?"

"Yeah, I was shocked too. But stop trying to deflect now, Fawn. What is it that you wanted to speak with me about?" She tensed and went silent. After a few moments, he gently prompted, "It seemed serious. Come on, you know you can tell me anything."

"Right… Well, it _is _serious. It's… Oh, God." She took in a shaky breath, as Merlin patted her hand comfortingly. "So, so, tonight. When I saw you in the hallway, remember? I- I may have followed you to the druid's room." He froze, and she hurriedly said, "I just wanted to know if you were alright, I swear. But then I sort of, maybe eavesdropped a little. And I heard- you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin denied. He felt as though his blood had frozen in his veins. _This can't be happening_, he thought desperately._ Please, don't let this be happening_. His hopes that she hadn't heard anything incriminating, however, were all crushed at the words she said next.

"You're Emrys. _You're _the one they're looking for."

Merlin's heart stuttered, and his vision went grey at the edges for a moment. He cleared his throat and let out a not-very-convincing laugh. "What- Emrys? Me? That's ridiculous, Fawn! I'm not some _sorcerer_, I'm Merlin! What the hell has gotten into you-"

"Stop, Merlin," Fawn replied tiredly. "Just. Stop. And calm down, will you? Do you really think I'm going to turn you in or something?" That was exactly what Merlin had thought. "Wait, you actually- Merlin! Come on, what kind of friend do you think I am?" The girl seemed Very Offended.

"I don't understand," Merlin said weakly, his hands still shaking.

"Merlin, it's alright," she gentled her voice, "I swear I won't hurt you, or tell anyone. You're my friend, and I _know _you. I know you're the kindest person I've met, sorcerer or not."

Merlin couldn't speak for a few moments. He had no idea what was going on anymore, but he thought the gist of it was that he wasn't going to die. So that was good. After a few deep breaths, he blinked rapidly, feeling his eyes burn, as his panicked mind finally registered what she'd said. This, this acceptance, was everything he'd always wanted from his friends. From _Arthur_.

"I- you really don't mind?" he whispered. "You don't think I'm a monster?"

"No, Merlin, of course not! I have nothing against sorcerers! That's is actually why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you…"

"There's more? What is it?"

"You're not the only sorcerer in Camelot," Fawn began slowly, her earlier nervousness returning. "I told you about what I heard because… well, I need your help."

Merlin stared at her in disbelief. She couldn't be a sorceress. He would've known. Right? "You have _magic_?"

"What- no!" she cried. "It's not me. It's my brother." When Merlin just continued to stare at her, she exhaled and said lowly, "It began last month. We had an argument and he got angry, then… four glasses shattered! And after that, it started happening all the time. Just yesterday he stopped a jug on the cupboard from falling onto my head, just by looking at it! And his eyes… they turned gold."

"Bradan has magic," Merlin murmured, still a bit out of it, which was understandable considering the number of shocks he'd had in the last half hour. This conversation had taken so many turns that he could barely keep up.

Apparently, Fawn didn't like that. "Well, obviously he has magic!" she almost yelled, frustrated with how slow her friend was being. "And you're the- I don't know- the magic king or something"- Merlin let out an embarrassed squeak. _The 'magic king'? Is that how people think of it?_-"so you can help him. You know what they'll do to him if he doesn't learn to control this. It won't matter that he's only fifteen."

"He wouldn't be the only one in trouble," he warned, trying his best to forget what she'd just called him. "You'd be executed, too, for harbouring a sorcerer."

"I know, but it's not myself I'm worried about. Please, Merlin, you have to help him."

Merlin sat frozen with indecision. Fawn wanted him to hide her brother, to _teach _him, and protect him from Arthur. He'd never had to do something like this before; even when Morgana had discovered her magic, he'd simply sent her off to the druids and washed his hands of the problem. _And look how that turned out_.

"You _will _help us, won't you?" his friend asked plaintively, eyes wide and trusting. She didn't think he would refuse.

On one hand, he would be risking his own secret if he helped her brother and it wasn't just his life that would be in danger if that happened. Arthur, and all of Camelot, would fall without his protection. On the other hand, could he really turn his back on his friend that way in her time of need? And, more importantly, could he leave a fellow sorcerer- and a fifteen-year-old at that- to die when he could help save him?

Merlin had absolutely no idea what to do.

"I don't know."

"You- _what_?" the girl said incredulously, shooting up from the ground.

"Calm down! I didn't say I wouldn't help him," Merlin answered hurriedlyand stumbled to his feet as well. "I just need to think about it, alright? You know it's a huge risk!"

"You're _already _at risk just by existing," she hissed back. "And I'm not asking you to hide him or take responsibility for his safety. I just want you to teach him to control his magic so that he doesn't get caught and _die_! You can just pretend you didn't know anything about his magic if something goes wrong." All of a sudden, the fight seemed to leave her and she looked so very tired. "Please, Merlin. I'm asking, as your friend, that you don't turn my little brother away. Please, don't let him die."

And, _oh_, didn't that hurt. He wanted to help her so badly but something held him back; the same instinct that had stopped him from telling Morgana that he had magic.

"Look, I just… it's not that simple, Fawn. I might not be able to do anything, but- but even if I can't help you, I'll ask Aithne to!"

"You're actually serious," she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You really mean to let us do this alone."

"No! I'm only- "

Fawn cut him off. "Don't you worry your little head about us, Merlin. You just abandon your kind and worry about saving your own skin." Pushing past him, she stalked out of the room, carelessly stomping on the remains of their food, and slammed the door behind her.

Merlin sank to the ground, rubbing his face tiredly. This was really happening again. And this time, Fawn knew that he had magic so he couldn't push the responsibility off on someone else. This time, he had to make the decision himself, and he had absolutely no idea what to do.

* * *

Someone was speaking to him. Merlin blinked, disoriented, and shook his head, trying to focus on the concerned voice he could only just hear above the buzzing in his ears.

"-hear me, my boy?" the voice, which he now realised belonged to Gaius, asked.

"Gaius. I need to talk to you…" he mumbled, looking around. He was… just standing in the middle of Gaius' workshop, and he had an idea that he might have been standing there blankly for a while. After Fawn had left their secret room, he'd dazedly stumbled around picking up the food they'd left behind before wandering around the castle, lost in thought. It appeared he'd somehow ended up in the physician's quarters and frightened the life out of Gaius while he was preparing their supper.

"Merlin!" Gaius cried. "You had me worried! What on earth is the matter with you?"

Oh, right, he'd come here for a reason. He had decided he would ask Gaius what he should do about Fawn's brother, then proceed to completely ignore his advice, probably. But at least he could say he _asked_. And, if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want to bear the burden of knowing about Bradan's magic alone. He couldn't stand the thought that he was turning his back on his friend, and he desperately needed Gaius to tell him that he'd done the right thing.

"Fawn's brother is a sorcerer," he blurted out, and Gaius' eyebrow shot up. Even more than usual, that is. Figuring it would probably be best to explain before his mentor concluded that he had taught the boy magic, or something, he added, "She told me. Apparently, he was born with it, like me and Morgana."

"And what do you have to do with this, Merlin?" Gaius inquired, his eyebrow still raised in that way that made most grown men cower. Merlin, however, had long ago become immune to it. Mostly.

He said carefully, "He can't control his magic, yet, so Fawn asked me to teach him how to. I… told her I wasn't sure if I should, and she got angry. She thinks I'm betraying her." Merlin looked at Gaius pleadingly. "Is she right? Should I be helping them?"

The old man sighed and reached forward to pat him on the back comfortingly. "It's a difficult decision to make, my boy. Fawn has been your friend for years, and her brother certainly does not deserve to suffer. But you know I will always advise you not to do anything that will put you in even more danger, especially when it is not just your own life at stake."

"Yes," Merlin exhaled, "those were my thoughts exactly."

_There_, he thought. _Gaius thinks I shouldn't do anything, either. I mean, look what happened when I tried to help Morgana! _Nodding firmly to himself, he gave Gaius a wide, relieved smile and gestured to the supper laid out on the table. "That's settled, then. Shall we eat?"

Gaius studied him a moment longer, then voiced his assent, giving him one more fatherly pat.

Later, as he lay in bed trying to sleep, Merlin tried his hardest to put Fawn and her brother, Bradan, out of his mind. He couldn't remember much about the boy- although he'd met him a few times when he was visiting the siblings' home- because he and Fawn had made a strict pact to not interact with each other's friends and guests. The two of them had been living alone for the past three years, after the death of their ailing mother, and Fawn always complained about what a struggle it was to have to act as both a sister and mother to her fifteen-year-old brother. Between taking care of Bradan and working in the palace, the girl barely had any time for herself. But Merlin knew she loved her brother really, despite how often she moaned about him being a menace. He was all she had left. Merlin pushed that thought away, and he tossed and turned for what felt like hours before falling asleep. When he woke up the next morning, all he could remember of his dreams was the smell of burning flesh, and the sounds of a boy's screams.


	4. The Hunt Begins

**A huge thank you to everyone who's been leaving reviews! They make my day :D **

**I made a little change to the last chapter, because it seems Merlin can use telepathy. Somehow, I didn't notice that was what he was doing in the show; I thought Daegal was just ignoring him in that episode (I'm too lazy to look up its name), and got mad at the poor boy lol. Anyway, I've corrected that bit in chapter 3. Thank you to trekmel for pointing that out!**

**Things are finally starting to speed up in this chapter! Merlin is torn between his duty to Arthur and his fellow sorcerers, everyone is still searching for Emrys, and our boy starts to question his decisions. **

_Clean the prat's armour, sharpen his sword, bring up hot water for his bath, collect his breakfast, deliver Gaius' medicines_, Merlin chanted in his head. He had tried making his list of chores into a song to remember it better- 'armour' and 'water' sort of rhymed, didn't they?- but it proved to be harder than simply memorising it the ordinary way. He just hoped he didn't forget anything; Arthur tended to throw things, while Gaius gave him the Fatherly Look Of Disappointment.

Running through the corridors with Arthur's breakfast, as he always did, Merlin didn't see Gwen until he crashed into her, tray and all. Luckily, she was used to him rushing everywhere by now and managed to keep them both upright, saving most of the King's breakfast in the process.

"Gwen! I didn't see you there," Merlin said cheerfully. "Coming in to work late, are we?"

"Yes, well, it's because of those guards," she huffed as she helped her hopeless best friend pick up the cutlery he'd dropped.

Merlin paused, confused. "Guards? What guards?"

"The ones Arthur sent out to search for that sorcerer." Merlin froze, but Gwen continued, heedless of his discomfort. "They're searching the houses in the lower town for any evidence of sorcery. _Again_."

All of Merlin's earlier cheer disappeared abruptly. After all the drama that had occurred between him and Fawn, he'd somehow forgotten about Arthur's insistence on finding Emrys. What if there _were _other people like him in Camelot who got caught because of this? After all, Bradan had turned out to be a sorcerer so it seemed Merlin wasn't as aware of everything going on in the city as he had thought.

"Did they find anything, yet?" he asked Gwen, trying to sound nonchalant rather than fearful.

"No, not yet. I hope they do soon, though. I'm starting to get tired of this happening so often. The guards somehow managed to break three pots!" Gwen said indignantly, then added more softly. "I don't blame Arthur, of course. I know he's just doing what he has to, especially after what that old sorcerer did to his father…"

Merlin let out a strangled sound and covered it with a cough, waving away Gwen's concern. "Yeah, they need to find the sorcerer as soon as possible," he forced out, and even managed to paste on a fairly convincing smile. "Well, I need to go give my least favourite king his breakfast. I'll see you later, Gwen!"

Used to his erratic ways, Gwen didn't think anything of his quick escape and simply called out a bright goodbye before continuing on her way. Merlin hurried to Arthur's room anxiously and barged in. Placing the breakfast tray on the table, he pulled the curtains open and dragged Arthur's blankets off, making the King let out a frankly embarrassing squeak.

"Merlin!" he growled, trying to smack his servant sleepily and steal his blankets back at once.

"Time to get up, Sire," Merlin said in a failed attempt at his usual cheer. Funnily enough, that managed to get Arthur out of bed a lot faster than Merlin's usual mix of annoying and cajoling. For once, it took only a minute or two rather than fifteen for Arthur to roll out of bed, and Merlin immediately started in on his chores, completely silent.

Eyeing him carefully, Arthur said, "Good to know you _are _actually capable of shutting up, Merlin. Although, I wish you'd do it instead when we're out hunting, or on patrol." He waited for one of his servant's snarky, insolent replies, or even a smile, but Merlin appeared lost in thought. Merlin, thinking. Wonders never ceased. "Merlin. _Mer_lin." Again, there was no reply. Well, then. "MERLIN!"

The man in question jumped and whirled around towards Arthur with a glare. "Do you _have _to keep doing that?"

"I wouldn't if my idiot of a manservant would actually answer me. You know, you could be put in the stocks for ignoring your king!"

Merlin rolled his eyes at the familiar threat. Couldn't Arthur come up with something more creative, at least? "Yes, Sire. Did you need something, Sire?"

"You're acting strange today, Merlin. You're not babbling endlessly and you're even being respectful! You can't tell me you're still upset about last night?"

The lie was on the tip of Merlin's tongue when he closed his mouth again. He could simply tell Arthur that it was what happened the previous evening that still bothered him and deflect as he always did, or… or he could say the truth. For once, he actually wanted to, because it wasn't just his life on the line this time.

"No, it's not that," he began. "You're making the guards search the lower town for Emrys."

"Yes, Merlin, I knew that. I'm the one who gave the order," the King replied in that superior, irritating tone he had.

"What do you plan to do once you find him?"

"Invite him to a game of cards, obviously." At Merlin's surprised look, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course not, you buffoon. What do you _think _I'm going to do? He's a sorcerer. You already know what the punishment for sorcery is."

"You mean to execute him," Merlin said hollowly, then a determined glint entered his eye. He would convince Arthur not to do this, not just for himself, but for Bradan and everyone else like them in Camelot. "Why? You heard what the druid said. This sorcerer is loyal to you, and he hasn't harmed anyone. Does he really deserve to die?"

"He's a _sorcerer_, Merlin. You know as well as I how evil sorcery is, how it corrupts. He's a danger to the kingdom, not to mention that he's breaking the law. I cannot afford to let him go and allow Camelot's enemies to think us weak now."

"Don't you think doing the right thing is more important than maintaining your image?" Merlin snapped. He usually didn't have to tell Arthur that. Arthur was a good king and had always cared more about his people than his pride, but when it came to magic, he was blinded by hatred, and Agravaine's influence certainly didn't help. He acted like a completely different person these days.

"You still don't know how to speak to your king, Merlin," Arthur sighed, then continued, "And I _am _doing the right thing. It would be foolish to assume that the sorcerer is harmless simply because I haven't yet seen him do anything. Morgana seemed harmless enough at first, didn't she?" Of course. It always came back to that. "She fooled us all for years before revealing her true nature. That's how sorcerers are, Merlin. They can't be trusted. _Ever_."

"You haven't met many sorcerers, Arthur. Just because of a few bad-"

"A _few_?" the king exclaimed incredulously, beginning to lose his temper. "Every sorcerer I have ever met has been evil. These monsters have killed _hundreds_ of innocents!"

"Only because you and your father killed hundreds of _them_," Merlin hissed testily. He only realised what he'd said when Arthur shot out of his chair.

"How dare you speak about my father that way!"

Merlin closed his eyes and said more calmly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… But can't you see how wrong this is? Persecuting so many innocents-"

"_They killed my father!_" Arthur shouted, and the echo of his voice seemed exceptionally loud in the silence that followed.

"Arthur…" Merlin tried to reach for his friend, but he moved away.

"Don't _ever_," he said tersely, heaving ragged breaths as he held an arm out towards Merlin, "say anything like that again or I swear to you, I will not be so lenient. I am your king, and you are my servant, so _know your place_."

Merlin swallowed. Arthur had never seriously told him anything like that before, not even at his most insolent. As he opened his mouth to speak, the king cut him off again.

"I would rather die than see my kingdom destroyed by magic. Sorcerers will never be allowed to walk the streets of Camelot, not while I am its king." He ignored the pained sound Merlin made and pointed to the door. "Now get out."

Merlin only stood there and stared at Arthur pleadingly a moment more before he turned around and fled the man's stifling presence.

* * *

The marketplace was almost silent, its usually lively noise reduced to a low murmur. A fearful atmosphere stole over the entire city, and the townspeople scurried around, quickly running their errands under the watchful eyes of the King's knights, before shutting themselves away at home. The King's search for the sorcerer Emrys had only begun two weeks ago, but already the knights had made several arrests, and there was a palpable air of mistrust hanging about the city that many remembered from the days of Uther's reign. Ever since the new king was crowned, there had been no investigations of the kind and no executions. King Arthur's mercy and compassion were well-known, and after he welcomed the druids back into Camelot, the people had begun to feel cautiously hopeful that the era of fear had ended. But now it seemed Uther's legacy lived on in his son.

Merlin rested his face against the cool glass of the window as he watched the guards in the lower town march their newest prisoners away. He felt that he should have been thankful that there were only three that day but he only felt ill. He'd had no idea how many people in Camelot still relied on magic, even if they weren't sorcerers themselves. Most of those that had been arrested in the past two weeks were just ordinary people, with no magical ability whatsoever, who had kept a few harmless magical trinkets to make their lives easier; the guards found charms for good luck and wealth, talismans to ward off danger, little bits of jewellery that brought good health… so many people had kept these leftover traces of magic from before the Purge, and had made the mistake of letting their guard down when Arthur became king. And now they would pay for that with their lives.

It was one of the bakers and his wife and son, this time. Their house was one of the places Merlin regularly delivered potions to for Gaius, and after so many years, they were good friends. And they weren't the only ones of those arrested that he cared about. Merlin let out a long breath, his throat tight with grief for what would happen to all of them, and watched his breath fog up the glass and block his view of the town. He'd lived with these people, knew their faces and their names, and now he would watch them get executed, all because he was too much of a coward to tell Arthur that he was Emrys. The last time he'd felt this way was when the druid camp he'd sent Morgana to had been sacked. He had done nothing then, too, had simply watched as the knights of Camelot descended upon the druids, as his kin were murdered and scores of innocents were cut down. And it had all been his fault, just as it was now.

All of a sudden, he saw Bradan's face vividly in his mind. Would he have to see him and Fawn captured and executed, too? That thought was too terrible to bear in his already desolate state, and he could not bring himself to watch any longer. He pulled back from the window, turning away from the sight of his fellow sorcerers being dragged down to the dungeons, and walked off without a backwards look. It was what he did best, he thought with a humourless smile.

Merlin was so desperate to escape the shadow of the castle he so loved and hated that he only noticed that he'd managed to make it to the gates of Camelot when a voice called out his name. He turned and saw Gwaine jogging to catch up with him, his face devoid of its usual cheer. It made Merlin's heart a bit lighter to know that at least his friend did not take pleasure in the arrests.

"Where are you going?" Gwaine asked as he reached Merlin. "Not such a good idea to be out alone in these times, Merlin."

"I'm just going on an errand for Gaius," Merlin replied with his usual smile. It scared him sometimes, how good he had gotten at lying. "Don't worry, I'll stay close to the city."

"Errand for Gaius, eh?" The knight was shrewder than he pretended to be, which Merlin supposed was just another thing they had in common. Gwaine had always been one of his favourite friends (and not just because of his more lax attitude towards magic), and sometimes Merlin wondered whether he ever actually believed his lies. He felt like Gwaine could see right through him; the man certainly saw more than he said. It made Merlin feel both terrified and elated, to be so known. "People are starting to panic," Gwaine said, apparently content to ignore his friend's lie. "They'll point fingers at their neighbours and friends and accuse them of using magic. You don't want to be seen doing anything suspicious they can use against you, Merlin, so stay with others at all times so you have someone to vouch for you, at least."

"I'll do that next time," said Merlin, hoping it would reassure the knight.

It did not. "This time, too. I'll come with you," he announced.

"Wha- Gwaine, there's really no need," Merlin protested, then paused and peered at Gwaine in confusion. "Don't you have a job you should be doing, anyway?"

"Not anymore, I don't," was the cheerful reply.

"You can't just leave!"

Gwaine didn't deign to answer and simply walked up to the knot of knights overlooking the search. A brief conversation followed, full of wild gesturing and angry hand-waving as his fellow knights tried to protest his self-imposed break from work, but Gwaine seemed to eventually win the argument for he headed back to Merlin with a triumphant grin.

The groaning servant just placed his head in his hands exasperatedly as his friend slung an arm about his shoulders and asked brightly, "So, where are we going?"

* * *

"You know," Gwaine said conversationally, beating low-hanging branches away with a stick as he plodded along behind Merlin in the gathering dusk, "you don't have to try to pretend that you're looking for herbs."

Merlin's head whipped around. "What?"

"I can see you panicking about it from back here. I never believed that's what we were coming out here to do." Gwaine paused to poke his stick at a particularly large insect on the forest floor, before continuing, "You wanted to break from everything going on back there. I did, too. So can we please both stop pretending that you had something to do for Gaius and actually enjoy this stroll?"

Merlin huffed and gave him a shove. "I don't see why you couldn't have said that from the beginning, you ass."

"I hadn't gotten bored of watching you squirm yet," the knight replied cheekily.

Merlin was about to make a no doubt scathing retort (he _was _good at insulting people other than Arthur, no matter what Gwen and Fawn said) when he heard the sound of hoofbeats to their left. The two of them spun towards the direction of the disturbance, Gwaine's hand going immediately to his sword. A few moments later, they crept forward, the rider ahead of them nothing but a black blur in the distance, and followed the steadily receding sound of thudding hooves and crunching leaves until they could no longer hear them.

"Ah, well. It was probably nothing," Gwaine yawned with a shrug as they came to a halt.

Merlin, however, was still staring after the rider, his chest tight with inexplicable anxiety. "I don't think so…" he murmured.

"What do you mean?"

Gwaine didn't think it was anything important, but Merlin couldn't shake a sense of foreboding. He closed his eyes and murmured a spell, his vision moving toward the horse and rider. And the unconscious woman slung across the horse's back. Merlin's vision snapped back to his body, his mind clouded with horror, and he was already sprinting in the direction the rider had taken before he had the chance to get his bearings.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Gwaine yelped as he raced after him.

Merlin didn't answer and continued to run across the forest, ducking under branches and jumping over tree roots. His breath came out in heavy pants and brambles snagged on his clothes but he could hardly feel any of it. The image of Agraviane on that horse with Aithne's limp body tied in front of him played repeatedly in his mind and spurred him on when he started to flag.

Having given up on calling for Merlin, Gwaine eventually caught up with him and grabbed his arm, pulling him to an abrupt stop. Merlin tugged desperately as his mind conjured one horrifying scenario after another. Aithne being tortured, Aithne getting murdered, Aithne bleeding-

"Merlin!" Gwaine shook him gently and leaned closer, worry evident on his face. "What the hell is going on?"

"That rider- We have to catch up!" he yelled almost incoherently and continued trying to escape his friend's grasp until Gwaine shook him again, making him go limp. "Agravaine!" he gasped. "It's Agravaine, and he has Aithne. We have to save her or he'll take her to Morgana."

Obviously, that wasn't much of an explanation, and Gwaine seemed even more confused. "Why would Agravaine-"

"We don't have time for this. I'll explain later, alright?"

Gwaine nodded, and Merlin had never been more grateful to have a friend like him, who always trusted him implicitly and without question. "Right, then. We can't match his pace on foot, so we'll either have to go back to Camelot for horses-," Merlin shook his head emphatically, "or take it slow and catch up with him eventually, without running ourselves ragged." He raised his hand when Merlin tried to protest and added gently, "We'll be no use to the ambassador if we drop dead from exhaustion the minute we reach her and, assuming both Agravaine and Morgana will be there too, we'll need to be at our best."

Merlin didn't want to admit the man was right as all his instincts screamed at him to go after Agravaine, but he finally let out a slow breath and nodded. Morgana wouldn't want Aithne dead immediately so he had to think that the druid could hold her own for a little while. "Fine," he told Gwaine tightly. "We'll take it slow and steady until we reach them." He then turned around without waiting for a reply and continued to make his way after Agravaine and Aithne, and a moment later, he heard Gwaine begin to follow him.

As their footsteps rang loudly through the forest, Merlin's thoughts stopped flitting about his head chaotically and a quiet alertness filled him. Soon, they would reach Morgana's hut and try to get Aithne out, and he knew it was too much to hope they could do it without a fight. He couldn't use magic in front of anyone but Aithne and he had no plan whatsoever, but Merlin had faced worse challenges before and come out unscathed. He had managed to save himself and all his friends from every danger they'd faced, and this time would be no different. He would make sure of that.


	5. Finding Closure

**Chapter 5 is finally here! It's very late due to a severe case of writer's block and an extended vacation in Turkey but I've finally managed to finish writing it and started in on the next one, which will hopefully not be this long. This is possibly the first time I've had to write fighting scenes so let me know what you think :)**

There was something chafing at her wrists, making them burn fiercely. That was the first thing Aithne noticed as she came to. Her head was spinning and she could barely keep her eyes open enough to see where she was. A few lonely candles flickered weakly, illuminating what looked like an abandoned dwelling. The little hut was dark and filthy, as if whoever lived there couldn't be bothered to clean every now and then, and it had little other than the bare necessities. Every single surface seemed covered in dirt, except for the jars on the shelves. Those were startlingly clean and filled with… things. Creatures. Aithne had seen enough magic done in her life to guess the purpose of most of the jars' contents, and none of it was the kind of magic that the peace-loving druids approved of. She swallowed and tried to shift, only then noticing that she had been placed on the floor and lashed to a sturdy wooden pole.

As she slowly felt her strength and focus return, she could make out a voice muttering behind her, accompanied by soft thumping. Subtly turning her head, she could just make out two black-robed figures out of the corner of her eye. One lounged casually on a rickety wooden chair that looked like it might collapse at any second, behind a table at which stood the other person Aithne had seen- a woman, she thought. She squinted, her neck stretched backwards perilously, until the man shifted restlessly in his seat. Aithne could not hold back a gasp as she caught sight of his face, and the thumping she'd heard came to an abrupt stop. What was Agravaine doing there? Agravaine… She felt as though there were something she was forgetting about him, something vital.

"Ah," she heard someone say in a silky voice, "our guest is finally awake."

The woman came into focus as she approached Aithne and crouched next to her. She looked like a corpse, the corpse of a woman who had once been beautiful; her long, dark hair was tangled and piled on her head haphazardly, her full lips pale and chapped, her captivating green eyes cold and empty. As Aithne stared at the frightening creature, she tilted her head with a pout and asked, "Oh, is my humble abode not impressive enough for you, Ambassador?"

Aithne had never met this woman before but she could guess exactly who she was and what she wanted. There was only one who would have the audacity to kidnap the druid ambassador from the heart of Camelot, one person that Agravaine served. "Morgana Pendragon," she breathed softly. "I suppose you've brought me here to torture Emrys' identity out of me."

Morgana seemed delighted with her bluntness. "_Very_ good," she said in mock approval, "but we don't have to resort to such unpleasantness, do we? Not if you simply tell me who Emrys is."

"I will never betray him," Aithne swore, and hoped she would be able to keep that promise. Her magic was powerful but it was no match for a high priestess'. She just had to pretend to be docile long enough for them to let their guards down and give her an opportunity.

"I hoped you'd say that," the witch replied huskily, and Aithne had to fight the urge to shrink back at the madness glinting in her eyes as she continued, "Bring the potion, Agravaine. Let's make sure our guest doesn't get _too _comfortable, hmm?"

The King's traitorous uncle moved for the first time then, and she realized she'd completely forgotten he was still there. _Stupid_, she admonished herself. _You will need to be far more observant if you want to get away. _She watched as Agravaine approached, carefully carrying the small wooden bowl Morgana had been using earlier, and held still as the witch placed her hand above it. A flash of gold eyes and a murmured spell later, the contents of the bowl fizzed and let out a hiss before calming again, and Morgana jerked her head at Aithne. Agravaine obediently held the druid's head in place as his mistress turned to her with a cold smile and brought the bowl to her lips.

"Do you know what this will do to you, Ambassador?" she asked conversationally, then continued without waiting for an answer. "It will suppress your magic. You won't be able to use any spells, to fight back; you'll be completely _helpless_." As Aithne started to struggle desperately against Agravaine, almost wild with terror, Morgana studied her dispassionately. "It sounds horrible, really. And this was all _your choice._" With that, she pinched the druid's nose and forced her to swallow.

Aithne went limp and moaned pitifully as she felt her magic's absence like a physical blow. Her throat constricted, her vision dimmed and she was sure her heart would burst, but she stayed conscious, unable to escape the torture.

"Oh, did I forget to mention this part?" she heard Morgana say smugly. "It's going to hurt and it will make you feel as though you were dying, but it won't let you fall unconscious or sleep. You're going to stay awake and feel this for every second you continue to defy me. Eventually, if you keep taking it long enough, it will drive you mad. And I assure you," she whispered, leaning close to Aithne's petrified face, "you will be here a _very long time_."

* * *

The King of Camelot stared off blankly into space as the voice of one of his advisors echoed dully around the council room. He had no idea what the man was saying, what the topic of discussion even _was_, and he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to the no doubt incredibly boring debate. Not today.

When Arthur had woken up that morning, he'd lain in bed for quite a while in confusion, certain that something was off. It was a testament to how sleepy he was that it had taken him almost ten minutes to notice how bright, and _silent_, the room was. Quickly scrambling out of bed, he'd pulled the curtains open only to see that the sun was already high and the castle was bustling with activity. He hadn't thought much of it then, simply groaning at the thought of even more work being piled up because of his lateness, and set about preparing himself for the day and his insults for his _useless _manservant.

But Merlin hadn't been in his room or in the armoury, or the stables, or _anywhere _within the castle. Arthur had huffed in annoyance as he remembered their squabble the previous evening and figured that his wayward servant would get over it and show up eventually, and he'd determinedly ignored the little voice niggling at the back of his head, telling him that it had been far more than a squabble. It had been only hours later, when he heard the toll of the noon bell, that Arthur acknowledged that they had really fought and that Merlin wouldn't come to him. That he had to go to Merlin first. It was the least he could do, after all.

_Know your place. _Arthur's insides shriveled with shame every time he remembered what he'd said to Merlin. _Know your place_, as if he deserved the man's respect. As if he was _better_ than him. Merlin was his first friend, his _best_ friend, though he would rather die than admit it. His quiet bravery and unquestioning loyalty had always secretly astounded Arthur, and he often wondered if he was worthy of them. Merlin had followed him to the Isle of the Blessed, had drunk poison for him, had braved dragon fire with him… he may have been only a servant but he was just as brave as any of Arthur's knights. Braver, even, considering he had no armour, was frankly terrible with weapons and was under no obligation to follow his king into danger. But he'd done it anyway, and Arthur repaid him by reminding him of his position.

It didn't matter that Arthur had been angry, no, _furious_, at what his friend had said about his father and sorcery. Merlin was entitled to his opinion and, after so many years of service, he had a right to be heard. Arthur had always told himself that he would be a fair king, that he would listen to his subjects' complaints no matter what, but he'd failed in that respect the previous night. And, more importantly, he privately thought, he may have alienated his closest friend. But not for long, he assured himself. If Merlin didn't come back of his own volition, then Arthur would find him and convince him to. He may even _apologise_, if he had to, and he thought Merlin wouldn't ignore that, not when he knew how proud his king was. As Arthur planned what he would say to his servant when he next saw him, he determinedly ignored the possibility that Merlin might not forgive his abominable behaviour. He'd lost his father and Morgana and too many knights to count, but he could not bear to lose Merlin, the one constant in his life that he knew he could always rely on.

Arthur was brought back to the present when his councilors began to shift and stand up from their seats. Apparently, the meeting had come to an end while the King was distracted thinking about his manservant. Arthur amused himself by imagining what the stuffy old nobles' reactions would be if they knew.

"Sire?" He turned to see his uncle standing off to the side with a concerned frown. "Is everything alright?"

Arthur smiled, unbearably grateful to have the man by his side. "Of course, Uncle," he assured him. "I just haven't seen Merlin since last night, and I suspect the idiot's probably gone and gotten himself in trouble."

Agravaine froze, then raised his eyebrow and murmured, "Merlin's gone? How curious." A few moments passed, after which he noticed the confused look Arthur was shooting him and smiled benignly. "Don't worry about him, Arthur. You know he does tend to disappear often, and you have bigger things to worry about than the whereabouts of one servant."

"Of course, Uncle," Arthur replied, though he hated Agravaine's, and indeed most nobles', attitude towards servants and privately thought that Merlin and Gwen were more important to him than all of those rich and powerful men put together. Gathering himself, Arthur walked to the knot of nobles still discussing the meeting's outcome. He put on his most kingly expression and pretended to know what they were talking about, and none of the gathered councilors noticed as a shadow broke away from their group and slipped away into the courtyard, and out of Camelot.

* * *

Gwaine bit back a sigh for the fourth time that morning as he stared at Merlin's straight back ahead of him. He had set out at an unforgiving pace hours ago and had yet to stop, with Gwaine following along behind him wearily. They'd only paused briefly to hide when Agravaine had passed them on his way back to Camelot, and the look on Merlin's face as he stared at the man had frightened Gwaine a bit. The knight longed to call for them to stop for a break. He was exhausted, hungry, thirsty and needed to pee, yet he remained silent. Something about the look in Merlin's eyes when he'd said that the druid ambassador had been taken stayed in Gwaine's mind, and he knew that it would be pointless to try and stop Merlin now. It was strange; he hadn't even noticed that the servant and druid had grown close enough for Merlin to be so concerned. But perhaps Gwaine was just imagining things. After all, he knew Merlin was the kindest, most sensitive soul he had ever met, so it was no surprise that he would go to all this trouble even for a stranger. It was that same kindness that had called to Gwaine from the very start, making him risk his life for some obnoxious royal, just because he was Merlin's friend. And that hadn't been the end of it. Merlin had barely needed to utter a word before Gwaine had readily followed him into the Perilous Lands- just as he followed him now. He had given up his previous life to become a knight because of Merlin, and the look of quiet pride in the servant's eyes when he looked at him was worth more to Gwaine than he could say; it was enough to keep him in Camelot when he longed for the anonymity of the open road and the crowded city got too stifling.

So Gwaine stayed silent now and kept up with his closest friend as they marched to Morgana's hideout. He was still a bit confused about Agravaine but if Merlin said the man was a traitor, then he believed him. It made him feel ashamed when he remembered how easily he'd let Agravaine go and believed his lies when Gaius was taken. In hindsight, he supposed it was actually quite obvious that he hadn't been checking Gaius' breathing. And the traitor must have already been there before; now that he knew Merlin's suspicions, Gwaine realised that the bit of dirt his friend had shown him must have come from Agravaine, and he was slightly hurt that Merlin had never confided in him.

_But he's trusting me now_, he thought to himself firmly. _And I won't let him down. _They would bring the druid back to Camelot, Gwaine would show Merlin that he'd been right to trust him with this, and he would be able to brag about having saved a damsel in distress to everyone. Life was good. Lost in thought, it took him a moment to notice that Merlin had come to halt before him and turned to face him.

"We're close," he said seriously. "Morgana's hut is just below us, beyond those trees. It's carved into the rock so it won't be easy to approach unseen. There's only one room, though, so it should be simple enough to _find_ Aithne. Getting her out will be the problem."

"Right… And how do you know all this?" Gwaine questioned him, eyebrows raised.

"Oh," was all Merlin said for a moment. As Gwaine kept staring at him expectantly, he continued, "I've… been here before."

The knight thought that that really wasn't much of an explanation, and he said so, to which Merlin impatiently replied, "Following Agravaine. I was following Agravaine, and I saw him come here."

Gwaine sensed that wasn't the full truth, but that was how it always was with Merlin so he let it go. There were more important things to worry about, anyway. "Well, you're the one who knows this place, so I'll follow your lead," he simply said. "What's the plan?"

Merlin remained silent for a few long minutes, then looked at Gwaine hesitantly. "It's not very complicated but it's risky," he began. "I won't blame you if you refuse, or if you'd rather go back to Camelot."

"Come on, Merlin," Gwaine huffed exasperatedly. "Do you really think I'll let you go alone? I don't mind if your plan is dangerous; that's what makes it fun."

For the first time since they'd seen Agravaine get away last night, Merlin's face softened in a smile. "Of course. I forgot who I was talking to." Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, he said gratefully, "Thank you for coming with me, Gwaine, and for always being there for me. You're a good friend."

"Just good?" Gwaine asked in mock indignation, mentally patting himself on the back when his silliness got a laugh out of Merlin, then continued more seriously, "I'll always be there for you. You're the only friend I've got, remember? And you'd do the same for me."

"I would," Merlin answered, his eyes bright. He then cleared his throat and grew serious once more. "Come on. We'll take a quick break to eat and drink, then we'll put our plan into action."

"You still haven't told me what that is," Gwaine reminded him.

"It's simple!" For some reason, that didn't reassure Gwaine. "We'll wait for Morgana to step outside the hut, then sneak in and free Aithne."

Gwaine stared at him blankly until he realized that nothing more was forthcoming. "So we'll just hope she doesn't come back too soon and kill all of us."

"It only sounds bad because you said it like that," Merlin muttered.

"…I'll keep watch and draw her away from the hut if she returns. You just worry about getting the ambassador out without being seen."

"Yes, that's the hard part, isn't it?" Gwaine thought his part was probably more difficult but decided not to comment. "If she does return and you keep her attention away from the hut for long enough, Aithne and I can get away, then the three of us can meet up back here."

It was as good a plan as any, especially considering that Gwaine rarely ever had a plan at all in these kinds of situations. They quickly set their things down and had a short meal, taking the time to wash up and prepare for their task, before they cleared away all traces of their makeshift camp.

As the two of them silently approached the stairway leading to Morgana's hovel, Gwaine took a deep breath and motioned for Merlin to stay put until Morgana left. Merlin just rolled his eyes in reply and settled down to wait. Gwaine watched him as he watched the door to Morgana's hovel, a bit disconcerted. He'd never seen his friend like this; the usually distracted, jittery man was now unnaturally still and focused, and Gwaine felt simultaneously impressed by and terrified of the change that had come over him since the previous night.

Gwaine was drawn out of his thoughts when Merlin grabbed his arm, and he looked down to see the door creak open and his least favourite high priestess step out. Waiting until she had wandered far enough away for them to put their plan into action, he and Merlin crept forward cautiously until they made it to the hut, where Gwaine remained outside to keep watch while his friend got to rescue a damsel in distress.

He really hoped this didn't kill him.

* * *

Aithne was so dizzy she could hardly see straight. The pain from Morgana's vile potion hadn't faded in the hours since she'd been forced to drink it. If anything, it was increasing. She wanted to claw her skin off and scream and beg, but she still wasn't far enough gone to let go of her pride. Eventually, she would give in; she knew that, but she swore to herself that she wouldn't give the witch the satisfaction of hearing her beg until she couldn't bear it any longer.

She didn't know how long it had been since she had woken up in this hellhole but thought it couldn't be more than a day, even if it felt like years. She'd vaguely noticed Agravaine leave hours ago and desperately hoped that Emrys would notice that he'd been gone for so long. It hadn't been long after his departure that Morgana had come to stand over Aithne with a cruel smirk on her face. Aithne had thought that there could be no worse pain than that she already felt but the high priestess had thoroughly disabused her of that notion. She quickly came to hate the sound of Morgana's voice, murmuring spells so dark that she'd never even heard of them and laughing joyously as her victim twisted and whimpered before her.

What felt like hours later, Morgana seemed to tire of her games and, with one last contemptuous kick to Aithne's abused body, she turned around and made her way to the door. "I will get what I want from you eventually," she said carelessly over her shoulder as she stepped out, letting a burst of light into the dark room. Aithne fought not to flinch away, both from the brightness and Morgana's words. "How long it takes and how much you have to suffer for it is entirely up to you."

Finally, the witch disappeared and Aithne was alone. The silence was blissful and, despite the tremors that still wracked her frame because of the potion, she felt unbearably grateful that she did not have to listen to the sound of Morgana's poisonous taunts or her own pitiful moans any longer. Of course, she knew it wasn't over. This was only just the beginning, and she was certain the witch had more torments planned for her. Aithne rested her cheek against the cool floor, no longer concerned with its filthiness, and prayed for the strength to keep resisting. If she gave in to Morgana Pendragon, she would be betraying not only Emrys, but herself and her people as well. But no matter how much she believed in Emrys and the world he would build, Aithne knew she wouldn't be able to withstand this for long. Her strength would fail her, of that she had no doubt; the only question was how long she would be able to deny Morgana. She lay there, trying to catch her breath, and felt her heart clench with pity for Camelot's old physician, Gaius, as she remembered that it had been him in her place just a few weeks ago. And he had remained at Morgana's mercy for far longer than she had, if the rumours were to be believed. Aithne had been impressed when she'd first heard that, but now that knew exactly what the high priestess could do, she marveled at the old man's strength and loyalty. She just hoped she would be able to last as long as he did.

Her mind went blank with panic as she heard a commotion outside the hut- oh, _please_, Morgana couldn't be back so soon- but a few moments later, a man barged in. She screamed and shuffled backwards fearfully, until she saw his face.

"Emrys!" she breathed, then couldn't hold back her tears. He had come for her. He had _found _her.

Emrys gave her a strained smile and quickly yanked out a knife to cut through her bonds. "We don't have much time," he whispered as he pulled her to her feet and held her steady when she swayed dizzily. "Gwaine is keeping watch but we need to get out before Morgana comes back." Without waiting for a reply, he turned back around and made for the door, Aithne stumbling along behind him. She still wasn't sure what was going on; her exhausted mind couldn't seem to comprehend this new turn of events, but she trusted Emrys to protect them and lead them home. Or to Camelot, anyway. It was still a better option than Morgana Pendragon's house.

As they left the dimly lit room and stepped out into the glaringly bright valley, Aithne startled at the sight of a knight hurrying towards them until she remembered what Emrys had said. She wasn't overly familiar with Camelot's knights- most druids tended to avoid that group, new laws notwithstanding- but she thought she vaguely recognised this one. His _name_ was certainly familiar, often spoken within the city in tones of simultaneous fondness and exasperation. Now, however, none of his usual exuberance was present, and his face was drawn with tension.

Sir Gwaine spared Aithne only a brief glance before addressing Emrys. "If you're all done, we need to leave, now. I think I saw Agravaine."

"He's here? Again?" Emrys said sharply, pausing for a moment before he continued towards the dirt trail leading away from Morgana's hut. "He must've come back to warn Morgana when he realised we were gone from Camelot."

"Probably," the knight replied grimly, "so we have to assume she's going to give chase."

"If they catch up, Aithne and I will deal with Morgana, and you take care of Agravaine," ordered Emrys, all traces of subservience gone, and Aithne wondered what Sir Gwaine thought of _Merlin's _new attitude. At times like these, she thought all of Camelot must be blind not to see the power and authority rolling off Emrys in waves.

"Deal with Morgana? She's-" Sir Gwaine began in futile protest before being cut off.

"Gwaine, I promise I will answer all of your questions later but for now, I ask that you just trust me. I can handle her but I need you to make sure Agravaine doesn't interfere. Alright?"

The knight agreed to the plan unhappily, and the three of them crept forward through the trees silently, or at least as silently as they could when one of them could barely keep herself upright. Aithne could feel the first stirrings of her magic being restored, a slow trickle of relief after hours of helplessness, but she was still appallingly weak. Of course, the return of _some _of her magic alleviated the pain somewhat, or else she would not have been able to stand, let alone run, but her muscles still trembled with fatigue. It wasn't long before they began to hear the sound of their pursuers closing in on them, and Aithne felt a rush of shame as she realised that it was her condition that made it impossible for them to outrun Morgana and Agravaine. Emrys seemed to have come to the same conclusion, for he brought them to a stop in a small clearing where they could see Morgana and Agravaine coming. Sir Gwaine readied his sword, though Aithne could not imagine that it would be of much use against a high priestess, and at a gesture from Emrys, he reluctantly separated from them and hid amongst the trees to await Agravaine.

Aithne closed her eyes and desperately tried to calm her racing heart. At that moment, it didn't matter that she was with Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever exist, or that he had foiled Morgana's plans time and again. All Aithne could think of was the pain, the hours of torture and the all-consuming _fear_. They couldn't possibly hope to defeat Morgana. This was _madness_. Her eyes flew open and she urgently turned to tell Emrys just that, only to see him go still a second before Morgana stepped out of the shadow of the trees.

The witch came forward slowly, letting out a laugh when Emrys pulled Aithne behind him. "Hello, Merlin," she spat disdainfully. "I should've known. You could never stay out of my business, could you?" Emrys gave no reply. "Come now, Merlin. Don't you have anything to say to your old friend? No last words before I kill you?"

"You stopped being my friend when you betrayed us, Morgana," Emrys finally said lowly.

"_I _betrayed _you_?" she asked incredulously. "You poisoned me! You pretended to be my friend, to care for me, then you tried to kill me!"

"To defend myself. The Knights of Medhir were going to kill all of us; they almost killed me _twice_," he hissed back. "Did you expect me to choose your life over my own and everyone else's?"

"They weren't there to kill you. _Uther _was their target, and you chose _him _over me."

"Oh, Uther was their target, and the rest of us were just in the way. Well, that makes me feel a lot better about almost dying because my _friend _couldn't even be bothered to warn me about the danger or make sure the Knights only attacked the king!" Aithne glanced between the two of them as they glared hatefully at each other; she could sense that they'd both been waiting to say these things for a long time. Neither even seemed to notice that Aithne was still there, nor that Sir Gwaine had intercepted Agravaine and that the two were locked in a fierce battle. "Admit it, Morgana. You didn't care what happened to any of us as long as you got your revenge on Uther."

"No, you're wrong," Morgana said, true emotion appearing on her face for the first time since Aithne had met her. All of a sudden, she didn't look like a monster, or even a powerful high priestess anymore; she just looked heartbroken and so very haunted. "I cared about you, all of you. I would've done anything for you. _Especially _you. You were the only one I told about my magic, the only one I trusted. But you turned your back on me" Her chest heaved as she spoke and her eyes went cold once more. "I've had enough of this. This is the last time you're going to interfere with my plans, Merlin."

She flung her hand out, and Emrys and Aithne flew backwards. Aithne slammed into a tree and crumpled to the ground, groaning and gasping for breath as her vision began to dim. Through the pain- even _more _pain- she vaguely saw Emrys curled up nearby with his head in his hands and caught a glimpse of Sir Gwaine jerking towards the two of them fearfully, only to be struck down by Agravaine.

"_Gwaine!_" Emrys gasped and attempted to crawl towards the knight, much to Morgana's amusement. She waved her hand lazily and he was thrown back against the tree trunk, and this time, he did not get back up. It was just Aithne now. Both of her companions had fallen and she was alone again. _This is it_, she thought despairingly. There would be no rescue, and there would be no way out of Morgana's clutches this time.

Aithne watched through blurry eyes as Morgana strutted towards Emrys triumphantly and pulled out a knife from the folds of her dress to finish him off. The witch's face was filled with such glee as she stared down at her old friend's prone form and crouched down next to him. For a moment, as she brushed the hair back from his face, Aithne thought she saw a flicker of grief in her eyes but it was quickly replaced by that same disturbing madness and bitterness that seemed to define her now, and she pressed the blade to Emrys' throat unwaveringly. Time seemed to slow; Aithne watched a drop of blood collect at the edge of the knife as Morgana's face lit up with sick anticipation. It was wrong, it was all so _wrong_. Emrys couldn't die like this. She couldn't let him die. As she raised a trembling arm towards the high priestess and gathered up the last vestiges of her magic, she heard Agravaine shout a warning, but he was too late.

"_Hleap on bæc!_" she shouted, and Morgana was flung away from Emrys with a scream. Aithne collapsed helplessly, her strength sapped by the spell, and could not help but breathe a sigh of relief when Morgana did not stir. Lord Agravaine, who had fallen to his knees by Morgana's side and was gently shaking her, was much easier to deal with, although Aithne didn't think she could do anything to him in her condition. No, she needed help, and quickly, before the traitor remembered that she was still there.

Aithne crawled to Emrys' side and grabbed his arm, hissing at him to wake up. He merely twitched in response, and she lost her patience. Feeling slightly horrified at what she was doing- this was _Emrys_\- she reached out a hand and slapped him. Hard. Emrys jerked awake and shot her a vaguely betrayed look as he clutched his reddened cheek, then seemed to recall that there were bigger things to worry about. For example: the enraged man who was now striding towards them with a sword in hand. Aithne gulped and scooted back towards Emrys, mostly afraid except for the small part of her mind that was too busy being utterly _disgusted _at the fact that she was cowering from this pathetic piece of filth. Had she not just used up all her energy to strike down Morgana, the King's uncle would have held no fear for her, but she had and now… Well, she could not expect Emrys to use his magic to defend them. Not after everything they had all been through to conceal his identity.

While she had been quietly panicking, Emrys had stumbled to a stand and bent to pick up Sir Gwaine's sword, and he stood before Agravaine determinedly, which was… not comforting. Aithne felt guilty thinking something so disrespectful about Emrys, but she had seen him on the training field with the knights a few times and, although she definitely didn't approve of the way they treated him, he _really was_ terrible with a sword. That bastard Agravaine seemed to agree with her- and wasn't that a _revolting _thought_\- _and laughed derisively at the sight of the frail servant facing off against him.

"What do you think you're going to do with that, Merlin?" he asked with a sly grin.

"You don't want to find out, Agravaine," Emrys said darkly, sounding completely serious. Aithne hoped he wasn't bluffing.

Agravaine simply laughed again and replied, "You never have known how to address your betters. I'm going to enjoy putting you in your place the way my _weak_ nephew never sees fit to do." He didn't wait for Emrys' response before he rushed him, his sword a gleaming blur as it met Emrys' with a clang. Agravaine may not have been as great a warrior as his nephew, but he was undoubtedly skilled, and he barely gave Emrys the time to recover from his rapid attacks, mocking and taunting him the whole time. For what must have been the hundredth time that day, Aithne wanted to cry because she knew that Emrys couldn't hope to win like this. After everything, after being _tortured_, after surviving a confrontation with a high priestess of the Old Religion, he would finally have to reveal his magic and risk his life because of _Agravaine._ Aithne groaned, half of her attention on the fight taking place above her and the other half on the persistent pain that still coursed through her body, and tried to lift herself off the forest floor to help Emrys but her trembling limbs failed her, and she could do nothing but watch.

For some reason, Emrys had yet to use his magic to end the fight, although he seemed to be holding his own well enough for now. It was strange; Aithne could have sworn that he wasn't that quick, that he didn't know how to use a sword, and yet he was slowly but surely forcing Agravaine backwards. The traitor had finally shut up, his focus now on staying alive, and the memory of the look of mingled astonishment and fear on his face was one that Aithne would cherish forever. Emrys no longer seemed weak, or clumsy; at that moment, he was all cold menace and fierce concentration. It was something that Aithne had come to associate with the times he used magic- there was no denying his power then- but this? She had never expected anything like this, and she felt a bit chagrined that even she had allowed herself to fall for the silly, harmless servant act. Agravaine was now struggling to fend Emrys off, his back pressed up against a tree and his face pouring with sweat. All of his arrogance and self-assurance were gone as his sword finally flew from his grasp and he stood with Emrys' blade resting against his heaving chest.

"Merlin!" Agravaine said with a shaky laugh and raised his empty hands slowly. "Merlin, there's no need to do anything rash now." Emrys raised an unimpressed brow. Agravaine gulped at his silence and added, "I'm sure this is all a simple misunderstanding. You know I am loyal to Arthur!"

"Right," Emrys snorted, "I can't wait to see how you'll try to convince me of that one. Is Morgana secretly working for Arthur, too?"

"No, she isn't. Which is why the King has ordered me to spy on her. I am simply following Arthur's orders, Merlin, so will you put the sword down now and help me retrieve the sorceress?"

"Retrieve her? Why not just kill her now? Go on," Agravaine's eyes widened and Emrys smiled coldly. "No? I didn't think so."

"She- Arthur would want us to bring her to Camelot to be publicly executed," stammered Agravaine.

"I'm afraid I just don't believe you."

"_You _don't need to believe me," he hissed back wrathfully. "I am the King's uncle, and you are nothing but a s_ervant_. You will lower your weapon now or-"

Emrys cut him off with a disdainful laugh. "You're in no position to be making threats; your title and power mean nothing here, and as much as I love watching you squirm, I've grown tired of hearing your irritating voice." He leaned in close and whispered, "I enjoyed putting you in your place, _Lord _Agravaine." Aithne gasped in time with Agravaine as Emrys raised his sword- the snake may have had a hand in her kidnapping and torture but, as a druid, she had been brought up to despise violence, no matter the cause- but he simply brought the hilt down on Agravaine's head. She breathed a sigh of relief as the unconscious man's body slid down the tree, and Emrys turned away from him with one last dismissive look, his gaze going immediately to Sir Gwaine's body.

Aithne felt a rush of shame as she realised that she had completely forgotten about the knight and pulled her aching body over to him before Emrys could reach him. She hadn't seen what Agravaine had done to him but she couldn't see any blood on the surrounding grass, so that was good, wasn't it? Healing really was not her strong suit. As Emrys fell to his knees beside them, she brushed Sir Gwaine's long hair off his face impatiently and pressed her fingers to his neck. "He's alive," she declared as she felt his pulse, and Emrys' shoulders slumped with relief. He lowered his face and pressed it to his friend's chest for a few moments, his frame shaking slightly, before he lifted his head again and looked the other man over. His breath hitched suddenly, and Aithne followed his gaze to a wound in Sir Gwaine's side.

"Right. We need to get back to Camelot," he said calmly, after he hurriedly bound the wound, although Aithne could see the fear in his eyes.

"What about Agravaine?" she asked. They couldn't just leave him there, could they?

"I can't kill him, unfortunately," Emrys told her with disgust, "He _is _the King's uncle, and Arthur would never let his death go without investigation. Unless…" He eyed Morgana speculatively, and it took Aithne a moment to understand what he was suggesting. Before she could protest, or possibly just let out another horrified gasp, he waved the idea away. "No, you're right. It would be cold-blooded murder, I suppose, and Arthur would probably do something foolish, anyway, if he thought that Morgana had killed his precious uncle."

Aithne was a bit concerned about his nonchalant attitude towards killing a person, but she pulled her attention back to Sir Gwaine. She could worry about Emrys' mental health later. "We brought no horses. Will we have to carry the knight?" She hoped not. He had saved her and she was grateful, of course, but she did not think her body could take any more abuse that day.

"No, Aithne," Emrys reassured her, "Agravaine must have come on a horse. I'll find it. You wait here with Gwaine."

Aithne nodded. She had no strength left to keep going, anyway. As Emrys set out to retrieve Agravaine's horse, she slumped back against a tree, then spied a water pouch at the unconscious knight's waist and desperately grabbed it, downing every last drop. Oh, that felt amazing. She hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the previous evening, and it didn't help that she had just spent almost two hours running around the forest in the heat. Water had never tasted so sweet.

She rested her head against the tree trunk and finally allowed herself to rest for the first time since Agravaine had taken her to Morgana. Soon, Emrys would return with a horse, and she and the injured knight would ride together back to Camelot. They would reach the city safely, and Sir Gwaine would be treated. Later, she was sure, they would have to deal with Agravaine and Morgana and everyone else that wanted Emrys and King Arthur dead but for now, Aithne was finally free, and that was the only thing that mattered.


	6. Turning Point

**Another long chapter! I'm not sure if people prefer it this way, or if you'd rather have shorter chapters but more frequent updates, so please let me know!  
**

_I would've done anything for you._

Agravaine sighed as he stared down at the book that he'd been trying- and failing- to read for the past two hours, and he shook his head to dislodge the thoughts tumbling through his exhausted mind. He looked over at Morgana, still unconscious on her small bed, and replayed her words again and again in his head until he felt too anxious and jittery to remain sitting. So he paced. And paced. It didn't help.

He had awoken a little over two hours ago, terrified and freezing on the forest floor, and quickly brought Morgana back to the hut to care for her. At least the rage he'd felt at seeing her unconscious and abandoned on the forest floor had warmed him up a bit, until he could start a proper fire with the last of her supply of firewood. It was foolish to stay here so long, he knew. His _dear _nephew would undoubtedly be looking for him now; the boy could hardly survive a day on his own, and Agravaine again wondered why exactly people thought he was such a great king. He was weak-willed, reckless and laughably easy to manipulate- which was why Agravaine wasn't particularly worried at the moment. Not returning to Camelot was not a wise decision but he loathed to leave his lady on her own when she was vulnerable, and he was reasonably confident that Arthur would believe whatever excuse he gave him for his absence. Even if certain other parties tried to convince the king of his treachery.

Agravaine's disturbed gaze returned to Morgana at the thought of the boy. _Merlin. _He had never given him much thought before; he was just a servant, albeit one that Arthur inexplicably seemed to tolerate, and even _like. _Really, the only noticeable things about Merlin were his insolence, his general incompetence, and Arthur strange attachment to him, which Agravaine had vaguely thought might eventually be useful. That had been the extent of his interest in Merlin, as he had bigger things to worry about than disrespectful serving boys, but now… Many things had been revealed in the forest that day. It seemed that Morgana and _Merlin _had a history that he had not been aware of and a far more complicated relationship than he'd thought.

It was… a lot to take in. Morgana had apparently considered Merlin a close enough friend to tell him about her magic. Agravaine wasn't sure she trusted even _him_ that much- although on a good day, he was usually able to convince himself that she did- and the realisation that a servant had once been deemed worthy of her trust when he himself had not did not sit well with him. The fact that Merlin had then dared to _poison _her made it that much worse. Agravaine's heart ached at the thought of Morgana being betrayed so viciously, and he couldn't stop thinking of the look on her face as she'd confronted Merlin in the forest earlier. She'd looked so hurt, heartbroken and… _human_. For once, her face had shone with true emotion; it was the most impassioned display he'd ever seen from her, and the thought that it was the boy who could affect her in that way made an ugly feeling rise in his chest. He had never noticed before, but now he could recall that their every interaction was fraught with some unnamable emotion, and not even Arthur Pendragon could rile Morgana up as easily as Merlin did.

Agravaine's knew his feelings for Morgana were obvious to perhaps everyone but idiots like Arthur. There was nothing he would not do for her, although he did not fool himself into thinking that she felt the same way. No, she was always blunt, and she made it exceedingly clear that he would remain by her side only as long as he remained useful to her. It didn't make him happy, exactly, but- he accepted it, and he refused to abandon her as so many others had. As that damnable servant had. The servant with whom she had some sort of… tension. Agravaine couldn't begin to understand why she had ever thought that _Merlin_ was worthy of her time and consideration, but that didn't matter now. In fact, that just made his actions more reprehensible. Morgana had trusted him and he had betrayed- _poisoned_\- her. And that was something Agravaine could not forgive. It made his blood boil that a mere servant had once had Morgana's regard then betrayed her, that he had been so disrespectful to him, a _noble_, that he'd attacked and _humiliated_ him-

The boy had always been a nuisance but he had made the mistake of bringing himself to Agravaine's attention now. And Agravaine would make sure he regretted it.

* * *

Aithne stared blankly at the generous spread of food that the King had sent to her rooms while she'd been sleeping. It was nothing like the simple fare she was used to having in the druid camp but she couldn't bring herself to take a single bite. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep, even though she'd forgone changing out of her stained and rumpled clothes and fallen straight into bed the minute the physician had allowed her to leave. The events of the past two days were finally catching up to her and being in Camelot, so far away from her family, wasn't helping. She had felt so honoured to be chosen to represent her people and meet Emrys, she thought bitterly, but now she missed her home so fiercely that she was starting to consider packing up her things and leaving while the King was distracted with his knight and servant.

She might have sat there, slumped in the too soft chair for hours, had she not been roused by a polite knock at the door to her chambers. A few moments passed before she could dredge up enough energy to get up and answer it, only to find Emrys on the other side of the door, as though her earlier thoughts had summoned him. Aithne winced as she took in the pallor of his skin and the bags under his eyes; he looked awful, and she could definitely sympathise.

"Emrys," she croaked, then cleared her throat and started again, "Do you need me for something?"

"No, I just wanted to check up on you," he said softly. "You look a bit better. Are you well, Aithne?"

Was she? She didn't know how to answer that; she was certainly better off than she was a few hours ago, in Morgana's tender care, but was she _well_? Aithne just stepped back and let Emrys into the room in lieu of a response, which she supposed was enough of an answer anyway. The two of them walked back to the small table with its cooling food and sat in silence for a while. Aithne figured that Emrys was trying to give her time to collect her thoughts and felt grateful that he was suppressing his rather talkative nature for now.

"That was some fight," she remarked after a while, partly to put off discussing her feelings and partly because she was actually curious, "with Agravaine. I mean no disrespect, of course, but I never thought you were such a talented swordsman."

He graciously accepted the change in subject with a wry smile and a shrug. "I've learned that it's always best to let people underestimate you; I might not have won that fight if Agravaine had been more prepared. Besides," he added, a mischievous grin appearing on his thin face, "my apparent lack of skill is an endless source of frustration to Arthur."

That startled a laugh out of her, and for a few minutes the two of them sat in companionable silence and nibbled at the food before them, but finally, Aithne managed to find her voice and said quietly, "I- I'm alright. Really. It's such a relief to be back here, and to be safe and-…" She gasped, then picked up the cup of water with trembling fingers and tried to continue, to quell the ache in her chest, but she couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. She had tried so hard to be strong, to go on as though nothing had happened, but she had been knocked out in her supposedly safe room in the castle, kidnapped, drugged and tortured in the space of a few hours. Aithne didn't think she could ever forget feeling so trapped and helpless, and just then, with Emrys' comforting presence near her, she found herself struggling to hold back the tears she'd been fighting ever since they'd returned to the citadel.

Emrys leaned forward in alarm as he watched her silent meltdown. "Aithne, what is it? Are you still in pain?"

The young woman waved off his concern and wiped at her eyes. "No, I'm fine. It's just… everything that's happened is- I'm just- just being silly."

"Don't say that," Emrys said fiercely, getting out of his seat and crouching next to her. "You've gone through a terrible ordeal, Aithne, and you've been so brave. There is no shame in crying after all that's happened to you." Aithne's lips trembled at his words, and he placed a gentle hand on her face. "It's alright. You're safe now. You're safe, Aithne."

The last of her resolve broke as he continued to murmur comfortingly, and she collapsed forward into Emrys' arms and cried until she had no tears left in her.

* * *

The most powerful warlock and exhausted servant in all of Albion rubbed his eyes tiredly and tried not to fall asleep. He couldn't allow himself to do so, for two reasons: first, he had to keep an eye on poor Gwaine, who was still unconscious hours after they brought him back to Camelot and its long-suffering physician, and second, there was a very awkward conversation with Arthur awaiting him. Arthur, who had been silently sitting next to Gaius' worktable behind Merlin for the past hour. He hadn't said a word since his arrival- which was so very unlike him that it made Merlin nervous- not even to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was. Merlin had given him one of the 'guest chairs', which Gaius had once confided in him were purposefully uncomfortable to drive away unwanted guests (read: Lord Nuallan, who dropped by their quarters almost every week with a new- and almost certainly made up- problem to whine about), but of course, the one time Merlin actually wanted Arthur to be his normal prattish self, he decided to act like a decent person. Although, that probably wouldn't last very long.

Merlin had no idea what to tell Arthur about the past two days; he wasn't stupid enough to think that his friendship with Arthur would mean anything if he tried to accuse Agravaine of treachery, not after what had happened last time he tried. It still stung that Arthur had disbelieved him so easily, and even _threatened _him, but he tried not to think about that. Really, when it came to Arthur, there were many things he preferred not to think about. He sighed and, deciding that there was no point wallowing in self-pity and putting this conversation off any longer, he looked up at Arthur and cleared his throat. "So, I suspect there's a long list of chores waiting for me," he began, his very fake smile fading slightly when the joke fell flat and Arthur failed to react. He really wished Gaius were still there to diffuse the tension but he'd left to check up on a patient in the town once he had ascertained that Gwaine was in a stable condition, so Merlin was on his own. On the bright side, at least Arthur wouldn't be told that he'd been in the tavern this time.

A few moments later, Arthur finally shifted toward Merlin. "When will Sir Gwaine be able to resume his duties?" he inquired calmly. _Calmly_. Merlin felt as though he'd been transported to some bizarre alternate universe; one where Arthur Pendragon sat quietly in the corner while he worked and asked for things politely. It was unnatural.

"He needs to spend at least two weeks without strenuous activity to recover," Merlin replied carefully and received only a thoughtful hum in response before silence reigned once more. That is, until he couldn't stand it anymore. "Aren't you going to ask what happened?" he blurted, almost angry with his friend for being so calm, which didn't make much sense.

"What happened?" Arthur sighed with the air of someone who already knew the answer to his question.

"We ran into your sister," began Merlin, although he didn't get much further as Arthur's head shot up in alarm.

"Morgana? You saw Morgana?"

"Yes, obviously Morgana; how many other sisters do you have?" he said irritably. "She kidnapped Aithne-"

"The druid ambassador?" Arthur interrupted yet again and ignored the scowl Merlin shot him. "Why would she try to hurt a druid? They've always welcomed her kind with open arms."

"I suppose that must be why she's so furious now that they've chosen to make peace with you," Merlin lied smoothly, reminding himself to tell Aithne to stick to the story he was making up later. "In her eyes, they've turned their backs on their own people; I just don't know if she kidnapped Aithne out of anger or if she had some plan to intimidate the druids into allying themselves with her."

"How did she even manage to kidnap the ambassador from the heart of Camelot?"

"There was a man with her," replied Merlin tiredly. Oh, how he wished he could tell Arthur about Agravaine's treachery. "That's how Gwaine and I found out about the kidnapping- we saw him carry Aithne away from Camelot while we were in the forest and followed him to Morgana. Gwaine fought him then and, well, you can see the result of that. Although, at least the other man didn't look any better once Gwaine was done with him." Ha.

Arthur leaned forward and gestured towards Merlin. "But you're unhurt. How did you get away from her?"

Merlin had thought up a lie to answer that; it wasn't a very _believable_ lie but he was confident in his ability to convince Arthur of pretty much anything as long as it made him look like an incompetent idiot. "Oh, that was all Aithne's doing. Morgana was about to kill me but she underestimated Aithne, who ended up saving my life," he admitted cheerfully. At Arthur's enquiring look, he clarified, "She knocked Morgana out with a rock when her back was turned."

The disbelieving look on his friend's face almost made Merlin question his decision to use that particular cover story until he remembered the first time he'd been disguised as Dragoon; he hadn't even needed to explain why he was, coincidentally, in that corridor. Really, it was a good thing Arthur had such a paranoid servant because he was far too gullible. He chose that moment to prove Merlin right by accepting his story unquestioningly. "You had to get saved by a woman," the prat snorted, his somberness disappearing as he fell back into his usual habit of insulting Merlin, "a woman who'd just been _kidnapped_. Why am I even surprised? You're completely useless in a fight."

"Yes, and you've always been _so _helpful every time we've fought a high priestess," Merlin drawled.

Predictably, Arthur chose to ignore the criticism and changed the subject. "How is the ambassador doing now?"

"She's fine- physically, at least," Merlin sighed. He couldn't help but feel guilty about what Aithne had gone through; he should have been more vigilant. "Knowing how sadistic Morgana is, I can imagine the kinds of things she did to Aithne."

Judging by the look on his face, Arthur could too. "We owe her our thanks for saving the three of you… and I owe her an apology. She should have been safe here, and from now on, I will have someone guarding her rooms at all time to ensure nothing like this happens again."

Well, that was a relief. Not that Merlin had much faith in the effectiveness of the palace guards after so many years both sneaking past them himself and watching others do so, but their presence might deter Agravaine. He wasn't a very brave soul, after all.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss." Merlin's head shot up at Arthur's words and the serious tone he used.

"There is?" he squeaked, his mind racing through all the possibilities. Had Arthur found out something about Emrys? Or had he finally visited the tavern and discovered that his wayward servant never actually went there? There was an endless list of things that Merlin kept from the king and really had no explanations for.

"Yes, it's about the reason you left Camelot in the first place," Arthur admitted uncomfortably, and Merlin just blinked at him in confusion. "I suspect it would've taken much longer for you to return had the druid ambassador not been kidnapped."

"It… would have?" Merlin was aware that he sounded a bit idiotic but his friend was making even less sense than usual.

"Because of the… argument we had that morning." Ah. That was also something he definitely did not want to talk about. "I know you were upset, and I understand, although I'll be having words with Sir Gwaine about helping you run off into the forest-" _What?_

"Run off?" Merlin asked incredulously. "I was just taking a walk to clear my mind, and Gwaine came along to ensure my safety, you prat! Because _he's _a good friend." Oh. He hadn't meant to say that last part. Usually, he suppressed all the rage he felt towards Arthur and simply accepted the terrible treatment because he knew his friend meant well, but between all the arrests still taking place in the lower town and the fight they'd had, he wasn't feeling very pleased with his king.

Arthur flinched at his words then nodded. "I suppose that's fair. My behaviour was unacceptable, and you have every right to be angry. I shouldn't have said those things, but I lost my temper."

Merlin's eyes had steadily gotten wider as Arthur spoke; it almost sounded like he was admitting he wrong. But then… that was all. Arthur was apparently done speaking and was looking at Merlin expectantly.

"That's it?"

Arthur blinked; it seemed that wasn't the reply he was expecting. "I- yes?"

"You didn't even apologise," Merlin said tersely. For a moment, as he looked at Arthur's contrite expression, he was tempted to drop the matter; he'd done that every time his friend had offended, belittled or humiliated him in the past, and Arthur hadn't always even admitted that he'd made a mistake. But, he thought, wouldn't letting it go so easily now make Arthur behave that way again in the future? Forgiving and forgetting didn't seem to be helping Arthur understand how much he hurt his friend, so Merlin straightened and forged on. "Saying that I'm right to be angry isn't enough; I _am _angry and, more importantly, disappointed."

"I understand-"

"No, you don't. You're making excuses, saying that you lost your temper as if that makes it better, instead of just apologising."

"How was I supposed to _not _lose my temper?" Arthur retorted stubbornly. "You were out of line, disrespecting my father like-"

"Disagreeing with his decisions isn't the same thing as disrespecting him. Am I not allowed to have an opinion?"

"Of course you are," sighed Arthur. "Fine. It's not your fault I lost my temper, and I should never have said the things I did. Alright?"

Merlin wanted to say yes, he really did. He hated fighting with Arthur. But it wasn't the first time this had happened, and it _wasn't alright_; he was so tired of being treated like a slave after everything he did for his king. For once, he wanted to be appreciated, and he wanted Arthur to apologise and really mean it, to have to actually earn his forgiveness. "That's not enough."

Arthur threw his hands up in exasperation. "What do you want me to say, Merlin?" Well, he was going to have to figure that one out on his own.

"I don't know. Just… go away, will you? I need to rest," Merlin replied, rubbing his face tiredly.

A few moments later, Arthur asked irritably, "Will you at least show up to work tomorrow morning, or will I have to rely on _George _again?"

Merlin's jaw clenched. Arthur really had the audacity to act as if _he _had any right to angry? "Don't worry, Sire. I'll be there."

"Good," he said imperiously, remaining in his seat a while longer, as though waiting for Merlin to change his mind and accept his inadequate apology, before standing with a huff and striding out of the room. All of a sudden, the physician's quarters seemed far too quiet, and Merlin suspected he wouldn't actually be able to get any rest.

_Well_, he thought bleakly, _that could've gone worse. _

He held very little hope that Arthur would give in and just choose their friendship over his pride- especially when he refused to even acknowledge that they were friends- but that didn't matter. Contrary to popular belief, Merlin could be just as proud; he was a sorcerer, he had defeated two high priestesses, he was the last dragonlord, he was _Emrys_… He had endured so much in the years since he'd arrived in Camelot, but he found that he could not tolerate Arthur _threatening _him for speaking up. Perhaps this was all just a result of his exhaustion and his pain at having to fight Morgana again; perhaps in a few hours he would see sense and return to his king's side as he always did but… he didn't think so. Agravaine had unknowingly echoed his nephew's words when he'd claimed that he would put the servant in his place, and that _stung._ It was the last straw, although Merlin regretted that the series of humiliations he'd faced over the years hadn't been enough to make him stand up for himself.

A low groan from the patients' cot interrupted his moping, and Merlin looked up, startled to find that the sun had set and Gwaine had started stirring while he sat there feeling sorry for himself. He rushed over to the knight and handed him a cup of water, helping him sit up to drink it.

"What happened?" Gwaine asked after he drained the last of the water (and let out a loud burp, but Merlin was used to him at that point and didn't react beyond half-heartedly rolling his eyes). Merlin set the cup down gently and pulled his chair towards the cot before he replied.

"How much do you remember?" he said as he sat down and settled in for a long talk. He had promised Gwaine an explanation, after all, and while he could probably lie or refuse to talk without his friend holding it against him, he thought the man deserved answers. If not for allowing him to keep his secrets all these years despite seeing right through him, then for being his most loyal friend since Lancelot's death.

"We went to rescue the druid," started Gwaine slowly, then his eyes widened in alarm. "Morgana found us; she used her magic on you! Are you hurt-"

"Gwaine, I'm fine," Merlin replied warmly and laid a calming hand on the knight's arm. "Aithne's fine, too. We knocked Morgana and Agravaine out and brought you back to Camelot."

Gwaine stared at Merlin for a long moment. "What do you mean you knocked them out? One's a high priestess and the other is, I suppose, a decent swordsman. Last I saw, the ambassador could barely hold herself up so it was just you against the two of them!"

Merlin sighed and repeated the same story he'd told Arthur, cutting out the parts about a mysterious figure helping Morgana as they both knew full well it had been Agravaine. By the end of it, Gwaine was just looking at him skeptically- although he wasn't quite quick enough to hide the glint of tired hurt in his eyes- and Merlin finally blurted, "Well, that's the official story anyway."

He could hear Gaius' voice in his head berating him for being an idiot but he ignored it as he saw his friend's face brightening with hope.

"Oh?" Gwaine prompted, attempting to appear nonchalant.

Well, he'd already started so he might as well dig himself in deeper. "The unofficial story that Arthur is not to hear about under any circumstances is that, first, Agravaine was the one helping Morgana. I told him it was just a random man," he clarified. Gwaine grimaced but tilted his head in acceptance. "Second, it was I who managed to beat Agravaine."

"You- really? _How_?"

Merlin tried not to be offended at his disbelief. "I spend all my time with a bunch of idiotic knights and yet none of you ever think I might've picked up a few things about sword fighting."

"Not enough to beat someone as skilled as Agravaine. Unless," Gwaine said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Merlin suspiciously, "you've just been pretending to be absolutely terrible with swords this whole time…"

"Yep," he admitted shamelessly, and Gwaine punched his arm lightly with a snort.

"Right, well, now that we've established that you're a sneaky, devious liar, tell me what happened to Morgana."

And there was the question that Merlin had been dreading. He wanted to answer his friend honestly, not because of his promise- God knew he'd told enough lies to feel entirely comfortable breaking that promise- but because Gwaine had always followed him unquestioningly, to the Perilous Lands, when they'd set out to find Gaius, and now even to fight a high priestess. The man's trust in him was honestly bewildering and terrifying most of the time, but Merlin felt compelled to return it. If he couldn't trust Gwaine- understanding, protective, _loyal _Gwaine- then who could he trust?

Mind made up, he took a deep breath and carefully said, "Morgana was knocked out before Agravaine. Using magic." He said nothing further as Gwaine went still, waiting first to see how he would react to the mention of magic. He hadn't specifically _told _him that he was a sorcerer, which gave him an out just in case Gwaine turned against him, but if he didn't-

Maybe if he seemed accepting of it… Merlin could tell him. He could finally have someone he could trust with his secret after all those lonely years since Lancelot's passing.

"_Whose _magic?" Gwaine's voice was quiet and his face gave nothing away.

"Just… magic." He might be willing to confess to having magic but there was no way he would ever give away Aithne's secret. "It knocked her out, and she stayed down long enough for me to take care of Agravaine."

"You have magic," the knight murmured, eyes wide, and Merlin gulped fearfully even as he assured himself that Gwaine was trustworthy. "You have- Of _course _you have magic. That explains _so much_. What the hell are you doing in Camelot, working for Arthur Pendragon? Are you out of your mind?"

Merlin shushed him frantically. "Keep your voice down!" It took a few seconds, but once Gwaine seemed calmer, he rushed to explain, "I have to stay in Camelot to protect Arthur- do you know how many times I've saved his life? But I only use it for that, I swear. I'd never betray Arthur or Camelot-"

"Well, obviously," Gwaine interrupted impatiently, "I know that. But why did you even come here in the first place?"

"I was born with magic, and Mother sent me here to learn to control it from Gaius," Merlin replied automatically, still blinking in shock. "Wait, what do you mean you know? I mean, you don't seem angry or murderous or… I have _magic_!"

Gwaine laughed and shook his head. "You're _you_, Merlin. I've always suspected magic might not be as evil as they say it is in these parts, but now I know for sure. You are the least evil person I've ever met. Besides, no one in their right mind would question your loyalty to Arthur."

"Oh," was all Merlin could say at first, his eyes filling with tears. Even in his daydreams, he could never imagine that any of his friends would be able to accept his magic quite so easily, and he found himself overcome with a rush of love for Gwaine. "That's- You don't know how much that means to me."

"I'm offended you apparently thought I would turn against you just because of the way you were born. Have I ever given you cause to doubt my friendship?" Merlin wordlessly shook his head, still sniffling and beaming at Gwaine. "Well, that's not going to change. What _is _going to change, however, is how you spend your nights from now on."

"What?" Merlin really didn't understand how his friend's mind worked sometimes.

Gwaine just grinned and announced, "We are going to have _so _much fun. I _cannot believe _you've just been letting me carry out all those boring, non-magical pranks on everyone this whole time." Oh God, Merlin knew where this was going now. "Think of all the things we can do with your magic, all the havoc we could wreak, all-"

"Gwaine, no," Merlin laughed, "I can't just use my magic for pranks; I have to keep it hidden. Except, of course, on the days when Arthur is being particularly annoying."

The knight laughed delightedly, no doubt wondering which of the king's many mishaps could be attributed to Merlin's magic, before sobering slightly. "Well, just in case it still isn't clear to you, Merlin, I won't tell anyone about your magic, and I'm going to help you hide it. I just wish you'd told me earlier; I can't even imagine how afraid you must have felt all these years."

Merlin felt close to tears again at the warmth and sympathy in Gwaine's gaze. "It's not easy but… I'm glad I have someone with whom I can talk about it now."

"You're not alone anymore, I promise," his friend replied solemnly, and Merlin flinched at the words, quickly looking away in shame.

"Thank you, Gwaine," he mumbled, "You should rest now; I'm going to get some sleep, too."

He fled up the stairs to his room and shut the door behind him before slumping on his bed. His emotions were swinging wildly between joy, guilt, relief and sadness, and his exhaustion wasn't helping. Gwaine's faith in him was still _incredible_, and it made him miss Lancelot fiercely, but what he'd said… _You're not alone anymore_. Merlin's throat tightened with emotion; he had wanted to hear those words for so long, and he knew it wasn't just him. He knew- he _knew _how much Morgana had longed for someone to tell her that when she was still lonely and terrified.

Seeing her again, speaking to her about all of it for the first time, was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. It didn't matter what terrible crimes she committed when he saw the ill-concealed betrayal in her eyes every time she looked at him. He still dreamed of it sometimes; watching her choke, her eyes widening in realization as she clawed desperately at her throat. Uther may have set Morgana on the path to becoming the monster she was today, but it had been Merlin's betrayal that finally broke her. And he knew, even if she didn't, that he had really abandoned her long before that day.

Poisoning her was terrible but he'd had little choice, especially considering that she seemed to have no qualms about letting the knights of Medhir kill him and Arthur. Keeping his magic from her, however, when he personally knew exactly how lonely and helpless she felt, was unforgivable. Over the years, Merlin had tried to convince himself that the secrecy had been necessary, that telling her wouldn't have made a difference, but he knew that was a lie. A comfortable lie, but one he couldn't bear to tell himself any longer. Not after seeing her again and hearing her accusations, after witnessing what she'd become because he had been too cowardly to save her.

He thought of all the people he'd failed- Morgana, Will, Lancelot, his father, and, oh, Freya… His mind shied away from the memory of Freya's face, smiling, laughing, sleeping, _dying_-

Merlin heaved a shuddering breath and close his eyes. His chest clenched in agony, as it always did when he remembered the druid girl he'd come to care for in almost no time at all. She had suffered because of his cowardice, just as Morgana had. He knew Gaius had advised him against revealing himself to Morgana, but he'd used his old mentor's disapproval as an excuse to avoid doing the right thing for far too long. He didn't blame him, of course, for always cautioning him against trusting anyone and talking him out of helping other sorcerers; Gaius was the closest thing he had to a father, and he loved his ward far too much to want him to put himself at risk. The only one to blame for his inaction was Merlin himself.

It was too late for Morgana, and he would always carry the guilt for that, but now there _was _someone he could still save from a similar fate. He couldn't fail Bradan, too. Suddenly, the decision he had spent so long agonising over seemed so simple. Merlin didn't know if Fawn and her brother would still accept any help from him, but he was determined to try. He had damned Morgana and countless other sorcerers for his destiny and for Arthur's sake, but finally, as he sat there on his rickety old bed and thought of the bright, kind witch he'd once known, he swore that he would never again sit by idly and allow his fear to take another one of his kin away from him. He could no longer hide in the shadows and wait for his destiny to be fulfilled. He was _Emrys_; his people were counting on him, and he would not let them down.


	7. Evil Plots And Angsty Kings

**This chapter is very late, I know. I've been so busy with university and midterms that I barely had time to finish this and start writing the next chapter, let alone upload anything. But on the bright side, at least it's finally here and the next one is half done!**

**I'm a bit nervous about this chapter because I've never written anything like this, so let me know what you think of it! **

_This is pathetic_, Merlin thought as he stood shivering before the door to Fawn's house. He had arrived there over ten minutes earlier, and he still couldn't muster the courage to actually knock. It wasn't that he was afraid, really; he was simply far too ashamed to see Fawn- and Bradan- again after their last conversation. If he had thought that it might blow over eventually after Fawn had some time to cool down, he'd soon realised that he was sorely mistaken. The young woman had taken to pretending that he didn't exist and, when he'd tried to initiate a conversation, had promptly left the room. For all of those reasons, he was understandably wary of attempting to contact her again, lest he be faced with a wrathful and overprotective sister trying to keep the likes of him away from her brother.

Merlin dithered for a few more minutes, then, taking a fortifying breath, he raised his fist and knocked softly. With Fawn still be angry with him, going to her house was likely a very dangerous activity, but Arthur didn't call him a reckless fool for no reason. And _oh_, he winced because he should _not _have thought about Arthur just then. Their fight- _both _fights- was still fresh in his mind, and while his newfound resolve to step into his role as Emrys brought him some measure of relief, it didn't make him feel any better about the situation with Arthur. There were probably more important things to worry about, he knew, but their friendship was too precious to him for that to matter. The two of them were at an impasse, with Arthur too stubborn to apologise and Merlin too proud to simply back down and forgive him. _Gwaine _certainly didn't think that Arthur deserved his forgiveness; he had scowled and raged when Merlin told him about the things Arthur had said during that first argument and about his refusal to properly make amends now. It had taken almost an hour to talk him out of punching the king in the face, although Merlin was secretly pleased at how protective his friend was being and cherished the memory of the long hours they'd spent talking of his magic after Gwaine's initial discovery. He'd forgotten, in the years since Lancelot's death, how freeing it was to simply let go and be able to speak his mind with no thought for the consequences.

He was brought out of his thoughts as the door squeaked open to reveal Bradan, covered in bread crumbs and blinking in surprise at him. Merlin briefly wondered if Fawn had told her brother about his refusal to help him. He really hoped not.

"Evening," he said brightly a few awkward moments later.

"Hello, Merlin," the boy replied uncertainly, then pointed over his shoulder. "Uh, Fawn is inside- I mean, if you're here to see her?"

Judging from Bradan's manner, it seemed his sister had told him of her fight with Merlin. Great. "Yes, please. I need to speak with her."

A few moments later, Merlin was settled at the scarred dining table inside the house for the first time since he'd angered Fawn, and she was coming out from behind a thick cloth screen with a fierce scowl on her face. Apparently, Bradan was smarter than Merlin, as he mumbled something about drawing some water from the well then quickly made himself scarce as soon as he caught sight of his sister's expression.

"What do you want?" Fawn demanded coldly the second Bradan stepped out of the house. It was a bad start to what would likely be a grueling conversation.

"Look, I know you have every right to be furious with me," Merlin started nervously, "and I'm not asking you to forgive me for being a selfish idiot. I'm just here to ask you to let me not be a selfish idiot."

Fawn looked very confused- which was something most people experienced when speaking with Merlin- before deciding to go right back to being angry. Merlin rushed to explain before she could kick him out, "Um, that came out wrong. I meant it would be my pleasure to help Bradan and teach him to control his gifts. Also, please stop being angry with me; you're very scary."

A few moments passed, during which he sat breathlessly anticipating her response. He really didn't fancy being kicked back out into the cold but he wouldn't blame Fawn if she refused his help; he imagined he'd be just as furious if someone condemned his mother to a horrible death out of cowardice. Thankfully, though, his friend finally replied hopefully, "You mean it? You'll really help him?"

"Of course," he said softly. "He and I are kin. I should have agreed to it from the beginning but I was- afraid. I'm so sorry for the fear and pain I made the two of you go through."

Fawn was already waving his apologies away with an ecstatic smile, and she bounded up to him and gave him a relieved hug. "Thank you. _Thank _you, Merlin. You don't how much this means to me and Bradan- I mean, I didn't tell him about any of what happened with you, of course, other than the fact that I wasn't speaking to you anymore, but he'll be so overjoyed to know that there's someone else like him in Camelot! He's been so morose and terrified recently."

Merlin flinched at that. He knew _exactly _how Bradan felt, and yet he'd abandoned him anyway. "I'm sorry-"

"Oh, stop apologising, you idiot," Fawn huffed. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I don't have magic so I couldn't possibly imagine what you must be going through, how afraid you must feel… The only person who should be apologising for being selfish is me, for expecting you to risk revealing yourself for my brother when it could get you killed."

Well, that was… not at all what he'd expected when he had come here. He thought Fawn was forgiving him too easily in her relief but at the same time, it eased something in him to hear those words. Yes, his actions were reprehensible- had been for quite some time really- but perhaps he wasn't as irredeemable as he'd thought.

"I think you're far too forgiving," Merlin said wryly, "but I'm glad for it. I promise I won't let you and your brother down again, and I will do everything in my power to protect him."

Fawn beamed at him, and the tension remaining between them finally dissolved. When Bradan returned almost an hour later- clearly without any water, Merlin noted with amusement- the two of them dissolved into giggles at the bafflement on his face as he stared at Merlin contentedly braiding Fawn's hair before he gave an awkward sort of shrug and left them to their silliness. It hadn't been more than a few days since The Fight (it _was _a very huge fight, and Merlin felt that, after everything he'd been through, he had earned the right to be at least a little melodramatic) but it had felt much longer to Merlin. Fawn was one of his closest and most trusted friends, one whom he could now be open with about his magic; and as he sighed happily and listened to her prattle about her neighbour's chickens, he found himself thinking that between Gwaine and Fawn discovering and accepting his magic, he had never felt more at ease.

* * *

No matter how much he tried to pretend that nothing was out of the ordinary, Arthur had never felt more uncomfortable in his own castle than he did that day. It seemed like the whole world was conspiring against him, and were he more like his father, he probably would have suspected that sorcery had something to do with it. As it was, he was irritably- and probably quite irrationally but he couldn't bring himself to care at this point- blaming his manservant for his bad luck, despite the fact that Merlin was clearly too incompetent to be a sorcerer. However, he thought, the facts were these:

One, he had fought with Merlin the previous night. Merlin was as insolent as usual (this had nothing to do with the matter at hand but Arthur felt it had to be noted that his servant was a terrible servant).

Two, Merlin had woken Arthur up quietly without any sort of violence or struggle. He'd even completed all his chores efficiently and politely. The _audacity_.

Three, it appeared his knights had noticed the idiot's unnatural behaviour and decided it was _Arthur's _fault, so he couldn't even let his frustration out during training because apparently, Camelot's finest knights were more loyal to a servant than their king. He'd been subjected to several glares- even _Leon _had been shooting him disapproving looks the whole morning- and _Sir _Gwaine hadn't even tried to hide his hostility, the bastard. To make a bad day even worse, Arthur had tripped and gotten a face full of dirt on his way out of the field after training was over, and Gwaine had laughed at him. Loudly.

And last but not least, Guinevere seemed to have turned against him too. She was unfailingly polite, of course, but the disappointment in her gaze made him feel like dirt. His attempt to start a conversation had failed miserably as she announced that she was Very Busy that day, and he couldn't even call her out on the obvious lie if he wanted to avoid a lecture on the struggles of being a servant that he could never possibly understand. Sometimes, he almost wished he _were _a servant so he didn't have to automatically lose all his arguments with Merlin and Guinevere. Almost.

At any rate, considering all that had happened that day, Arthur felt he was justified in thinking it was all somehow Merlin's fault- even his fall. Guinevere and all his knights were angry with him, and Arthur was starting to imagine that even the other servants and courtiers were glaring at him too, even though he knew that probably wasn't actually the case. Since when was _Merlin _this well-liked anyway? Arthur would have thought at least his knights would take his side; _he_ was supposed to be the popular one, not Merlin, he thought grumpily. Not to mention, he was fairly sure that Merlin hadn't actually told anyone about what had happened between the two of them, which meant that everyone had chosen not to side with him without even knowing who was at fault! And it was Merlin, obviously. Arthur couldn't be in the wrong; he was the King.

He walked back to his quarters, keeping an eye out for clumsy, idiotic manservants who really needed to stop being so girly and forgive him already so things could go back to normal. Merlin was being too sensitive, as usual; Arthur had apologised, admitted that he was wrong to say the things he did, and even ignored the fact that Merlin had tried to run away and steal one of his knights in the process! He really didn't know what else that- that _clotpole_ wanted him to do so that he would stop sulking. And the worst part was that, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he didn't care, being at odds with Merlin just felt _wrong_. Whenever he pulled off an impressive move on the training field, he would turn to Merlin to gloat, only to realise that the other man had never even glanced his way. When he witnessed Lord Airell (a pompous northern noble Merlin tended to rant about angrily whenever he visited Camelot) make a fool of himself in front of the ladies of the court, he shot Merlin an amused look which slowly faded away as he met his stony gaze. As painful as it was to admit, he had grown used to Merlin's presence, his passion and chatter and endless optimism, so not having his servant by his side felt like Arthur was missing a limb, and he gloomily wondered how long this would last.

He also wondered what his father would think of him, the King of Camelot, wasting his afternoon moping around his own castle because his manservant wasn't speaking to him. It was all very ridiculous.

Arthur was a few corridors away from his chambers when he heard his name being called. He turned to find his uncle striding toward him with a pinched look on his face that did nothing to improve Arthur's mood. He waited expectantly as Agravaine caught up with him and gave a respectful nod.

"Arthur, I've been looking for you," his uncle said. "I noticed this morning that you seem a bit… off."

Arthur groaned. Perfect. This was just what he needed; Agravaine thought it was bad enough that Arthur loved Guinevere, so he could just imagine the man's reaction to finding out the source of Arthur's angst.

"Off, Uncle? I'm not sure what you mean. Training today was most satisfactory. Were you watching? Some of the knights almost managed to beat me!" Arthur deflected as the two of them resumed their walk toward his chambers, hoping that if his uncle _had _been watching, he hadn't noticed that his near-defeat was actually because of his knights going into a protective rage over Merlin.

"Of course, Arthur, I have no doubt that the men you train are the most skilled fighters in all of Camelot," Agravaine replied proudly and gave Arthur a fatherly pat on the shoulder, which _did _improve his mood. "But I noticed some- tension between you and your manservant. It came as a bit of a surprise; I know you are quite fond of the boy."

Arthur made a face at the word. "_Fond_? Of that idiot? Really-"

"Arthur," his uncle interrupted gently, following Arthur into his room as they arrived at the door, "I do hope you know that should you need a listening ear, I am always here for you. You can tell me about your troubles; you can let me _help _you."

Oh. That was- Arthur gulped and tried to hold back tears. He was aware that it was ridiculous to get so emotional over a few kind words but he couldn't help it; he was Uther Pendragon's son. How many times had he longed to hear those very words from his own father? How long had he worked tirelessly to gain the smallest scrap of approval from that cold, stern man? He felt guilty thinking it so soon after his father's death but a small, love-starved part of him cried out that Agravaine was a better father and mentor than Uther had ever been, and after what the man had just said… Arthur couldn't imagine keeping anything from him. Agravaine's offer was enough to make almost all of his fears and anxieties spill out of him as though he were a child in need of reassurance.

"Thank you, Uncle," he finally said, overcome with the urge to let Agravaine know just how much he appreciated him. "You don't know how much your support has meant to me these past months. I- I don't know what I would do without your guidance."

"And you will never have to find out," Agravaine reassured him, his eyes shining with more love and concern than Arthur had ever seen directed toward him from his father. "I promised my dear sister that I would always protect you and remain by your side, and I intend to keep that promise. Now tell me, Arthur, what is troubling you?"

Arthur sighed at his uncle's fixation on the Merlin Problem (or Problems, really) but perhaps he would feel better after talking it out.

"It's nothing very important, Uncle," he began, sitting down at the table and making himself comfortable. "Just a few issues with Merlin."

"So this _does_ have something to do with him, then?"

"Yes. Well, not just him. Everyone hates me now! I mean, Guinevere and the knights," Arthur clarified, although judging by the growing confusion on Agravaine's face, he wasn't doing a very good job of explaining things. "Right, so, a few days ago, when the search for the sorcerer Emrys began, Merlin and I had a fight. He thought I was being too harsh, that I should let Emrys go as long as he harmed no one in Camelot, and I objected, of course, which led to him accusing my father of murdering innocent- _innocent_\- sorcerers. Which led to _me _shouting some rather unpleasant things back at him. Ah, you know, things like 'you're just a servant' and 'you should know your place'…" Arthur's rambling came to a stop and he flinched in shame again as he remembered the terrible words he'd thrown at his- friend.

It took Agravaine a few moments to process his semi-coherent story, then he leaned back in his chair with his brows furrowed in concern. "And now Merlin is upset and has managed to turn your knights against you?"

"No, no, it's not like that," Arthur replied hastily. "Yes, Merlin may be angry but he would never intentionally turn _anyone _against me. The knights and Guinevere must have simply noticed his bad mood and, well, they care about him."

"Of course," Agravaine said, "but I can't imagine why you would feel guilty, Arthur. It is clear that you do, but why?"

Arthur stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Why? I told you what I said to Merlin. After all he's done, all the years he's stood by my side-"

"Yes, he has been extraordinarily loyal to you. But surely you can see that you are not the one at fault here? No matter what, the boy should not have spoken ill of your father; that is unforgivable."

"I know, it made me angry at first too, but he's right. He _didn't _mean anything by it, and what I said was more unforgivable. I should never have blown it all out of proportion the way I did." Arthur raised a hand to forestall his uncle as he saw him open his mouth to protest. "No, it's true. The only problem now is that he won't forgive me. I apologised, you know, personally went down to his and Gaius' rooms to do it, but he wouldn't accept my apology. He said it wasn't enough! I'm not sure what I should do to prove my sincerity, Uncle."

Agravaine was silent for a few seconds, then he leaned forward with a sigh and placed his hand on Arthur's supportively. "Listen to me, Arthur," he spoke seriously, "I know that you and the boy have a bond and that you are grateful for his service; I understand completely. You feel that you owe him in return for his loyalty, but you must not forget that he owes you too. He owes you his respect and trust, as his friend and his _king_. Most of all, he owes you his support in this difficult time. You were a bit harsh, yes, but no one can blame you for being angry after hearing someone say such terrible things about your father. Merlin insulted the late king, and you reacted appropriately. And now he expects _you _to apologise when he should. You are not the one to blame for this situation, Arthur. And…" Here Agravaine hesitated.

Arthur was sitting forward in his chair, soaking up the man's comforting words, and when Agravaine went silent, he prompted, "And?"

"Well, I'm sure it will be unpleasant, Arthur, but I feel it is my duty to bring this to your attention," his uncle said uncomfortably, drawing out the words. "Merlin has always shown some… support for sorcerers in the past, and I'm certain I'm not the only one to find his defense of this Emrys rather strange."

"Support?" Arthur repeated incredulously. "Merlin does not support any sorcerers. He's only opposing this search now because he's too soft to want anyone to get hurt. No, Uncle, I know Merlin; his loyalty to me, and to Camelot, has never been in question."

"No, of course not," Agravaine agreed immediately, and Arthur relaxed. "I'm not suggesting that the boy is disloyal. But this softness that you mentioned is dangerous. I've heard stories, Arthur; didn't Morgana first turn toward her dark path because she began to feel _sympathy _for these monsters? Did she not begin to disobey your father and oppose his views regarding sorcerers, just as Merlin does now with you? It may start out that way, Arthur, with good intentions, but sorcerers can twist the mind and turn the purest hearts toward evil."

That was true. Arthur knew it, he'd _seen _it happen with Morgana; people like Morgause, like _Emrys_, had turned her into the deranged and bitter woman she was now. But Merlin was _different_. He was the farthest thing from evil the king had ever known, and Arthur said so to his uncle.

"Yes, for now. We both know that, once upon a time, your sister was as kind and compassionate as Merlin, but people change, Arthur. _Magic _changes them, poisons them, until there is no trace left of the people they used to be. And I fear that Merlin may become like Morgana should he continue to defend sorcery and those who practice it. He may already be corrupted, sire." Arthur went to object but his uncle continued before he could. "After all, was it not Merlin who urged you to use magic to cure your father?" He froze, unwillingly remembering that terrible day, as Agravaine continued to speak of his suspicions. "We must consider the fact that Merlin likely knew the sorcerer Dragoon, just like Gaius. I recall that he even tried to _defend_ the old man; he claimed that Dragoon was not to blame for your father's death!"

He had, hadn't he? Merlin was adamant that Dragoon had only meant to help and that Uther would have died anyway. And Arthur could remember other times that Merlin had tried to protect sorcerers. How had he never noticed Merlin's lax attitude toward magic? Mordred and Dragoon and Emrys… It was all too obvious now that he thought about it. Agravaine was right; Merlin… approved of magic. Or, even if he did not approve, then he at least accepted it.

"I'm relieved to see that you are at least thinking about this, Arthur," his uncle spoke at last, after the silence had gone on for too long with Arthur lost in his own thoughts. "We must be vigilant. Those who aid sorcerers cannot be trusted, regardless of whether they practice magic themselves. With your permission, sire, I can have the boy watched-"

Arthur's head shot up. "No."

"Do you want him to be questioned, then?"

"Of course not! This is Merlin we're talking about."

"Arthur, we've gone over this," Agravaine sighed. "Even the best men can be changed by magic, and it's clear that Merlin has allowed himself to be corrupted. He cannot be afforded any special treatment simply because of his position as your manservant-"

"This has nothing to do with his position," Arthur interrupted him yet again. "Merlin has always been loyal to me, and I will not reward his loyalty by treating him like a criminal. I don't believe that he truly comprehends the evil of sorcery but he has committed no crimes. Let _me_ deal with him; I will help him understand."

"But he-"

"I will deal with him," Arthur repeated, narrowing his eyes in warning as he saw Agravaine trying to protest again.

"Very well, sire," replied his uncle unhappily after a moment as he stood up and prepared to leave, disappointment clear on his face. Just before he exited the room, he turned around one more time and said, "I only hope the boy does not betray your trust."

"He won't." That was one thing Arthur would never doubt, and he would save his friend from being corrupted by sorcery. Agravaine sent his nephew an unreadable look that made his insides squirm before he finally stepped out and shut the door behind him with a quiet snick.


	8. Merlin's New Job

**This chapter's ****_finally _****done. I know it took so long but I've been swamped with work for uni. Actually, I probably should be studying right now considering I have three exams and a choir performance on Sunday but... I missed writing so here we are. The reviews have been really sweet and I honestly can't tell you how much I appreciate them! They're what keeps me going so thank you to everyone who's been leaving reviews.**** Anyway, it's a long-ish chapter this time, so I hope you enjoy!  
**

Merlin looked terrible, and he also looked far too happy about it.

It was midmorning, and the castle was bustling with life. When he was younger, Arthur had loved the noise and liveliness of Camelot in the early mornings. Less so now, when he wanted to catch as much sleep as possible before his manservant woke him up. Or at least, his manservant was _supposed _to wake him up, and yet here he was, exhausted and trying to catch up on his endless tasks and meetings because he'd woken up too late. _Again. _

And there Merlin was, an hour later, rushing up the stairs and bumping into his king like a fool.

When he had woken up to an empty room that morning, Arthur had assumed that Merlin was still brooding but now that he'd seen him, he had to admit that this was not the look of a man who had been intentionally neglecting his duties out of anger. Rather, it was the look of someone who had not slept at all after a harrowing experience. And who was extremely satisfied with his sorry state, for some reason?

"What on Earth- Where have you been!" Arthur demanded as he righted himself, squinting at the servant catching his breath before him. He ran his eyes over the other man critically and noted with great exasperation that he was still wearing the same clothes he'd been in the night before. And the circles under his eyes looked as though they'd been painted there. Arthur was trying very hard to be angry, really, but his concern was winning out; Merlin looked pathetic.

"Sorry, sire," Merlin said cheerfully, not sounding sorry at all. "I didn't sleep last night, and then I _did _fall asleep near dawn, and then I overslept, and-"

"_Mer_lin," Arthur groaned, "It's far too early in the morning for me to have to listen to your babbling."

"Sorry, sire," he repeated. Again, Arthur thought with amusement, he seemed completely unrepentant. But, although Arthur would normally complain about that, he was too relieved at the normalcy between them to even care. He didn't know what had brought about Merlin's change of heart but he was just glad that they were back to their friendly banter. Could his friend really have forgiven him so easily?

"I suppose it's only to be expected that you get a few nightmares after what you went through with Morgana. Just try to actually arrive on time tomorrow," he allowed. Merlin looked as though he were about to protest but then he shut his mouth and nodded complacently. "At least you've finally gotten over your sulk."

Merlin looked confused for a moment then eyed him coldly. _Ah, so he hasn't gotten over it_, Arthur thought with a sinking stomach.

"Sulk, sire? Is that what you're calling it?" Merlin questioned in a deceptively soft voice. "I am _so _sorry to have inconvenienced you; I should've just swallowed my pride and taken your insults, right?"

Arthur winced. "No, that's not- I just thought you weren't upset anymore, that's all. Because you look so disgustingly cheerful this morning…"

"Not everything is about you, sire," Merlin snorted, and the King felt his face flush. It _had _been silly to assume that he was the source of the man's good mood. "I'm _happy_ because I was able to visit two of my friends last night and help them."

"So it _wasn't _because of nightmares," Arthur said with confusion. He felt vaguely hurt that Merlin had lied to him but what did he expect? They were hardly friends, these days. "You're late because you were fooling around with your friends?"

"No, there were no nightmares," Merlin replied shiftily, then straightened and glared at Arthur. "And I wasn't _fooling around_; they needed my help. I'm not going to abandon my friends for anything, and certainly not just because you don't know how to dress yourself!"

"I do know how to dress myself," said Arthur defensively, then his mouth snapped shut. They were causing a scene, and many of the servants were watching them out of the corners of their eyes. Watching the King argue with his manservant about whether or not he knew how to get dressed. _How embarrassing._

Arthur straightened and cleared his throat, then said imperiously, "It's none of _my _concern what you were doing with your friends, Merlin. I just want you to do your job so I can do mine; I have far more important, _kingly_ things to worry about than my servant's whereabouts, obviously."

"Of course, sire," Merlin snorted, although Arthur noted sadly that his friend no longer seemed very friendly when he mocked him. "I won't waste anymore of your time; after all, I'm nothing but a servant, and I know _my place_." With that, he stepped around Arthur and walked off without a backward glance.

Arthur dropped his head in his hands, chest aching as he remembered the terrible words he'd said. Stupid, it was so _stupid_; he and Merlin had been through much worse things before, and he refused to mourn their fractured friendship because surely it couldn't end just because of a few thoughtless words. Their friendship had withstood everything from poison and betrayal to dragons; surely Arthur couldn't lose his closest friend over something like _this_. It was too frightening to even consider his life without Merlin in it, but something told him that the other man wouldn't come running back to forgive him this time. It was up to Arthur repair their relationship, but he had no idea how to do that.

And the whole time, although he was unconscious of it, a niggling voice at the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Agravaine whispered insidiously about Merlin, and loyalty, and magic.

* * *

Merlin hummed contentedly as he dunked Arthur's rich, heavy robes into the soapy water, his mind drifting. The previous night had gone better than he'd expected- _much _better- not just with Fawn, but with Bradan too. He hadn't thought that he'd start teaching the boy so soon but as soon as he'd heard that Merlin had magic, Bradan had been bursting with questions- that is, after he was done bursting into relieved tears- and Merlin had found that mentoring him felt enjoyable and as natural as though he'd always been meant to do it. He felt a pang as he thought of Morgana, and all the ways he could've helped her, but the weight of that heartbreak was now lighter, somehow. Showing Bradan his magic felt completely different than showing Lancelot or Gwaine or Fawn. And _teaching _him about magic was just- brilliant; it had unlocked something in Merlin and made him feel as though he were floating, and nothing, not even his tense interaction with Arthur that morning, could take that feeling away from him.

He walked out of the laundry room, arms weighed down with fabric. It had been pleasant to finally be able to speak to Fawn again to alleviate the boredom when they were working. Gwen, in particular, seemed very relieved that they were on speaking terms again; she was very close to them both and had been awkwardly caught in between them, attempting not to take sides. Although, the look on her face when she'd noticed that the tension between Fawn and Merlin had been exchanged for tension between _Arthur_ and Merlin still made him snort quietly as he made his way through the busy corridors of the castle. It was not remotely funny, but Merlin tried to find humour in the situation with Arthur; laughing about it was infinitely preferable to crying.

Of course, Merlin was happier than he'd been since he'd come to Camelot- he felt safer, and loved, and- well, not worthless. He knew most of the feelings of worthlessness he'd experienced in the past few years were a direct result of Arthur's treatment. That didn't mean that he didn't love his friend any longer; he did, and he always would, but he just no longer felt that he had to put up with abuse just because he loved him. Not now that he'd witnessed Gwaine and Fawn's reactions to his magic, and realised that that was how friends were supposed to act.

Hours and several completed chores later, Merlin put out the candles in Arthur's room while the other man sat at his desk, pointedly ignoring him. The two of them had not spoken a word to each other since their argument that morning and Merlin was startled to find that he was not bothered by the state of things between them despite the awkwardness. It was certainly less stressful and painful for him to not be constantly insulted and put down by one of his closest friends.

He absently smoothed down the bedcovers, excitedly thinking of all the things he could teach Bradan that night. There hadn't been much time for them to actually get work done the previous night because of all the joyful crying and explanations but Merlin was determined to teach the boy all he knew. Of course, he didn't know as much as he would've were he not in Camelot, although teaching Bradan had certainly motivated him to focus on his studies with renewed fervour. He suspected that Fawn's brother wouldn't be the only one improving drastically because of their lessons.

Chores done, Merlin straightened and cast his eyes about the king's chambers critically to make sure nothing was out of place- he couldn't afford to let Arthur have any complaints with his work anymore, not when their relationship was so fragile, and if he was being honest, he didn't really fancy speaking to his king just then.

"Goodnight, Sire," he murmured before making his way out of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur shift as though he was about to say something but Merlin quickly made his escape before he could speak.

As he usually did nowadays, Merlin firmly put all thoughts of Arthur out of his mind the moment he left his presence, sighing contentedly as he moved on to happier thoughts. _What should I teach Bradan tonight? _he mused. It couldn't be anything too difficult; he thought he could start by showing him the exercises that he'd used when he'd been trying to control his own magic as a young boy. At the moment, learning control was the most important thing Bradan had to do, if he was to keep his magic concealed. The boy really was unlucky, to have his magic appear now of all times. Not for the first time in the past few days, Merlin silently cursed Arthur and his obsession with finding Emrys.

Merlin shivered as he stepped out into the cold air, moving swiftly but silently through the lower town. His threadbare clothes never did much to shield him from the cold on nights such as this, and he had not yet gotten the hang of making his warming spells last for longer than an hour at most. Perhaps teaching Bradan could help him master those simple spells he'd always struggled with.

He was just passing near Gwen's house when the back of his neck started prickling. Merlin slowed down slightly; after all those years in Camelot, he had learned never to ignore his instincts, and right now they were screaming at him that something was wrong. Continuing on his way casually, Merlin waited until he passed behind a large wheelbarrow, then quickly ducked into the nearest alley. He paused for a moment then doubled back behind the small wooden houses that made up this part of the town and crept forward to peek out at the moonlit street. For a moment, he saw nothing out of the ordinary and was just starting to think that he had imagined it all when he finally caught sight of the tall, dark robed man almost blending into the shadows. _Agravaine._

Merlin's breath hissed out through his teeth as he watched Agravaine look around in frustration, no doubt searching for him, and he spared a moment to be grateful for his well-honed survival instincts (yes, they _did _exist, contrary to popular belief). He didn't want to imagine what might have happened had the traitor followed him to Fawn and Bradan. It only took a few more minutes for Agravaine to give up on waiting and turn back to the castle, cloak billowing dramatically behind him. _Did he learn that from Morgana?_

With a relieved sigh, Merlin cautiously snuck back to Fawn's house, making sure to take the longer but less exposed path. Upon reaching the modest home, he knocked softly, then waited the few moments it took for an eager Bradan to throw the door open with a wide grin and practically shout his name. Merlin winced at the volume and shushed the boy, although he was secretly pleased at the warm welcome. He'd feared that Bradan would be too afraid to really trust him but clearly, he needn't have worried. Or, perhaps more accurately, he needn't have worried about _that_; he was definitely worried that Bradan would expose them, however. Merlin and Fawn had already had to talk the overly enthusiastic fifteen year old out of showing up at the castle during the day for their lessons. He had also suggested they use their magic to prank Arthur after Merlin had complained about his attitude, leaving Fawn almost clawing her hair out with worry and frustration.

"Hello, Merlin!" Bradan said again at a lower volume once they'd stepped into the house and shut the door, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Hello," Merlin echoed with a warm smile. "I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one looking forward to our lessons."

Bradan opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Fawn, who was lounging tiredly on her bed. "He's been chattering nonstop about magic for the past _hour_, Merlin," she complained. "You're turning him into _you_."

"There's nothing wrong with him!" Bradan exclaimed indignantly, and Merlin blushed at the boy's defense of him. He was never too comfortable with the admiration he received from other sorcerers, and _someone _had seen fit to inform Bradan of his status as "the druid king, or something". Merlin shot Fawn a glare as she smirked at his discomfort.

He cleared his throat and turned back to his- student. That was still strange to think about; he felt far too stupid to have a student. "Shall we get started, then?"

"Yes, come sit," Bradan invited, even pulling Merlin's chair out for him and ignoring his sister's disbelieving snort. "I've been practicing those calming exercises you told me about yesterday to focus my magic."

"That's good; we'll need that tonight. We're going to start trying to cast spells without-"

"Wait, don't you think that's too soon?" Fawn interrupted. "He can't possibly be ready to do any magic yet, not without it going out of control the way it did before."

"I don't expect him to cast anything yet," he assured her. "Magic is best learnt through experience but it _will_ be some time before he can consciously call on his magic, let alone control it."

Bradan looked simultaneously relieved and disappointed. "Oh. So why are we starting to cast now, then?"

"Because you need to… familiarise yourself with your magic first, in order to use it," Merlin explained, although he had never needed to do anything of the sort. He _had_, however, read enough about the experiences of other magic users enough to feel confident teaching Bradan. "Think of it this way: your magic is sort of like a well of power inside of you, and every time you cast a spell, you draw some magic from that well. But before you can do that, you need to _locate _the well first. Then, you have to practice using it without pulling too much, or too little power. That's why most sorcerers tend to use meditation when they're first learning to use magic; it allows you to- sink into your mind, I suppose, and find the source of your magic."

Fawn just looked at him blankly, but Bradan nodded. "Oh, I think I understand. It did feel a bit like that when I used my magic accidentally. The well is a good, uh-"

"Analogy," Fawn supplied.

"Yeah, that. Except it was less like I was drawing water from the well and more like the well exploded in my face."

"That's why we're here. You'll learn to control it better in time," Merlin promised, laying a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now, the easiest spells to cast are generally fire spells. That's because it only takes one small push of power to start the fire, after which it sustains itself. Spells to levitate objects or create light, however, are a bit harder because they require a constant stream of magic to maintain them, so we won't be trying those just yet. For now, we're just going to do something simple: light a candle. Intent and willpower are the most important components to casting any spell. I want you to do the same exercises you've been doing but this time, focus on your magic; think about how it felt when it burst out of you and where it came from. Clear your mind of everything but your magic and this candle, and think about how much you want to light it."

Merlin's voice was low and calm, almost hypnotic, as he watched Bradan's features relax in response to his tone. For the next two hours, the two of them sat before the decidedly unlit candle, Merlin keeping up a steady stream of soft instructions and encouragement, while his young friend attempted to find his magic. Unsurprisingly, he never came close to lighting the candle, although Merlin was impressed by how calm he was. Bradan was generally slow to anger but Merlin had expected at least _some_ frustration over his failure.

"Well, you said I wouldn't manage it tonight," the boy said when he asked him about his surprising composure. "Besides, this meditation stuff is actually fun; I thought it would be a lot more boring."

"It _will_ begin to bore you eventually, after a few days," Merlin warned.

"That's alright. It's worth it to learn magic, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," he said with a smile, then stretched tiredly. He looked up to see Fawn sound asleep and added, "I should probably be getting back to the castle to get some sleep too. We can continue tomorrow."

"Thank you, Merlin," Bradan said seriously. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"It really is my pleasure to teach you. You've made a lot of progress tonight," Merlin added, smiling at the way Bradan preened at the praise. He made his way to the door and nodded to the boy. "Goodnight, Bradan."

"Goodnight, Merlin!" Bradan chirped happily with a wave as he shut the door behind his new teacher.

Recalling Agravaine's attempt at spying earlier, Merlin took care to remain unseen as he returned to the castle. He may have just finished his lesson with Bradan, but he was already mentally preparing what he would teach the boy the following night. Who knew teaching could be so rewarding? He'd thought the meditation would be rather dull, but watching Bradan's grow was worth it, although he was still exhausted. And _hungry_.

Quietly pushing the door to his and Gaius' chambers open, Merlin's stomach growled and he smiled as he saw the covered plate waiting for him, only to come to a stop when he caught sight of Gaius, very much awake and displeased, judging by his stern expression. His mentor was seated at the table, hands folded on top and eyebrow raised in what Merlin knew was his "You're In Trouble And About To Receive A Lecture On Stupidity" face. _Well, there go my hopes for a quiet, peaceful evening, _Merlin thought with no small amount of trepidation. And the worst of it was, he'd done quite a lot of stupid things recently so he couldn't even be certain what this was about. He just hoped it wasn't about Bradan.

"Good evening, Gaius," he said cheerfully, deciding to play innocent for now. At least, until he could come up with a way out of this conversation.

The eyebrow of doom crept higher. Gaius said nothing.

Merlin squirmed under his flat gaze and cleared his throat. "Is something wrong, Gaius?" he asked pointedly.

"You tell _me_, Merlin," Gaius spoke at last. "Is there _anything_ you want to tell me?"

Merlin gulped. "…no? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not doing anything stupid, are you? Anything I might have specifically told you _not _to do?"

Explanations and lies flew to his tongue as he instinctively started to deny the accusation but then he straightened. Hadn't he sworn that he would begin to stand up for himself and his people? True, he'd been thinking of standing up to Arthur at the time but he wouldn't allow Gaius to guilt him into abandoning his kin either.

"I'm assuming you know about Bradan, then. Fawn's brother," he clarified at Gaius' questioning look.

The physician appeared surprised at his forthrightness and looked at him thoughtfully, some of his anger fading as he tried to puzzle out Merlin's odd behaviour. "This may surprise you, Merlin, but I do notice when you're sneaking about at night," he said, trying and failing to hide his confusion.

Merlin smiled ruefully. Had Gaius gotten so accustomed to his lies that the mere thought of him being honest befuddled him so much? It made Merlin sad to think of how much he'd changed since coming to Camelot. He had matured, yes, but he'd also become… different. Ruthless. Dishonest, even when he didn't need to be. And he knew that no matter how much he told himself he'd stop, it would be easier said than done. But at least he could try, starting now.

"Well, I know what you're going to say." He looked Gaius in the eye and continued, "There's no point saying it; I'm not going to stop teaching him."

"Don't be foolish, Merlin," his mentor snapped. "You're putting yourself and the boy at risk!"

Merlin raised an eyebrow at that. "Is he more at risk now than when his magic was bursting out of him uncontrollably? Come on, Gaius. You know as well as I do that he would've been caught eventually if no one had helped him."

"I understand," Gaius sighed, softening slightly, although he remained resolutely convinced that this was a bad idea. Merlin doubted he could ever change the man's mind on this particular topic; he'd lived too long in fear. "But you've shown the boy how to calm his magic already, haven't you? He would've been caught by now otherwise. You've done your duty, Merlin, and it's more than enough. This cannot continue."

"But it will," Merlin replied firmly. "I'm not abandoning him, or any other sorcerers for that matter, the way I did Morgana. They look to me for protection and I won't let them down. _That _is my duty."

"What has gotten into you, Merlin?" Gaius bit out disbelievingly. "You've never done anything _this_ stupid before. You can't throw your life away for that boy!" Merlin went to protest but the old man wasn't done speaking. "You can't throw away _Arthur's _life for that boy," he added triumphantly, perhaps expecting that argument to convince Merlin as it always had.

But this time, Merlin knew where his loyalties lay. "I won't throw Bradan's life away for Arthur, either." Gaius stared at him, obviously in shock, as he continued sharply, "Have you noticed, Gaius, that you almost never call Bradan by his name? You don't use other sorcerers' names, either. It's almost like you've distanced yourself from them so much to avoid getting hurt that you no longer think of them as _people_. And they are- _my_ people. It may be different for you because you _chose_ to learn magic, Gaius, but I never had a choice, and I can't- _won't_\- turn my back on magic like you have. I am Emrys, and my highest responsibility is to magic users. I won't abandon them."

By the time he finished speaking, Merlin's chest was heaving and Gaius looked terribly old and sad.

"Oh, Merlin," he murmured in a pained voice and pulled his ward into a hug. "Of course they're people. You- you may be right about me distancing myself from them, but I never thought of how much it must hurt you to see me do so. You must never believe that I think less of you or your kind; I love you too much for that. I'm sorry, my boy. I just wish I could keep you safe."

Merlin pulled away from him gently and placed his hands on his shoulders. "But you can't, Gaius. I'll never be safe, not here and probably not anywhere else, either. But I _can_ be happy; I don't have to feel guilty or ashamed any longer, and I can help _so_ many people. Please, Gaius, let me do what I was meant to be doing all along. Let me be happy."

Gaius' eyes were glassy as he nodded, the fear in them never really fading. Merlin didn't really expect his mentor to stop fearing for him or to suddenly start believing that aiding sorcerers was a wise move, but at least he would no longer oppose him. Of course, Gaius couldn't _really_ stop him, but having his support… it meant more to Merlin than he could ever express.

"I hope you know, Merlin, that despite all my protests, I _am_ proud of you. You truly are worthy of being Emrys."

"Thank you, Gaius," Merlin whispered as he drew the man back into a hug. "I promise you, one day, we will no longer have to live in fear like this. I haven't truly believed that in a long time but now… now I know. I won't hide in the shadows any longer; we _will_ bring magic back."


	9. Gwen Takes A Stand

**Ahh, it's been almost three months since I last updated this story and I'm sorry for the long wait. However, I was quite busy with visiting my home country to spend more time with my grandmother following my grandfather's death and wasn't in the right frame of mind to write. It's also my first fic so I'm finding it very difficult to find time to write (specially because my beta reader stopped reading this a few chaptors ago so I'm doing it alone now) and I will probably update quite slowly as I try to find a writing style I'm more comfortable with. I have no intention of abandoning this fic so if a chapter's late- like this one- it's safe to assume I'm probably just struggling with some aspect of the story :D  
**

**This one was particularly hard to write because of Arthur's POV. I like switching between different points of view (except when it's Arthur because he is currently going through A Lot) so let me know if there's any specific character's POV you want to see. Right now, I'm considering one of the knights, other than Gwaine of course, but I'm not sure which so I'm leaving it up to you guys to vote for whoever you want! **

**And now without further ado, I give you: chapter nine! **

* * *

The sun lit up the sea of white petals as they swayed in the breeze, the short stalks of the mountain avens barely visible amidst the grass. Gwen paused for a few moments to admire the picture they made before kneeling to pick the flowers. Before long, she had filled her basket and was making her way back to Camelot. She sighed as she thought of the tension awaiting her there and guiltily wished she could stay away from the castle a bit longer. It was getting ridiculous, really; she still found it hard to believe that _Merlin _and _Arthur _were at odds. In all the years she'd known them, the two had been attached at the hip, no matter what they did to each other. The fact that it was Merlin who refused to speak to Arthur made it all the more unbelievable. Since when did _he_ ever get angry? Of course, logically Gwen knew that he must sometimes lose his temper but she couldn't imagine anything short of murder that could make him do that.

As though her thoughts had summoned him, Gwen saw Merlin and one of the knights sitting near the city walls. She shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted slightly. Ah. Gwaine.

That was another change Gwen wasn't sure she was comfortable with. Gwaine and Merlin had always been close, and she knew the knight considered Merlin to be his best friend, but they'd never spent _this_ much time together. She didn't _mind_ them spending time together, except… it felt almost like Merlin was replacing Arthur with Gwaine. No matter what Arthur had done to alienate Merlin, Gwen didn't want him to lose his best friend like this, and her heart ached for him as she watched the two men speak companionably.

As she approached them, Merlin caught sight of her and shouted a cheerful greeting, closely followed by Gwaine. Despite her sadness, she couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm. Gwaine and Merlin had to be two of the most cheerful and friendly people she'd ever met.

"Good morning," she replied warmly, reaching into her basket to give Merlin some of her flowers without even thinking about it.

"Hey now, how come only Merlin gets flowers?" Gwaine demanded in mock outrage.

Merlin just grinned at him smugly. "It's because she likes me better."

"Shut up, Merlin," Gwen ordered calmly before turning to Gwaine. "It's just habit; Merlin likes flowers almost as much as I do so I always give him some. Here, Gwaine, have one."

The knight accepted his flower happily and lay back on the grass in contentment. Gwen and Merlin shared a look of fond amusement; he was far too easy to please.

"Were you just out here collecting flowers, Gwen?" Merlin inquired as she gathered her skirts and sat on the grass next to him.

"Yes- well, not really," she sighed unhappily. "I just felt that I had to get out of Camelot for a bit."

"Oh. Why's that?" he replied with the air of someone who already knew the answer to their question. He probably did know, Gwen mused, but wanted to hear her thoughts on the matter.

She sighed again and settled herself firmly next to Merlin, smiling when he idly reached for a flower. "Things have been so tense lately," she finally answered him once she'd made herself comfortable. "It feels like so long since I've seen any of the townsfolk smile; even the children are doing their best to stay indoors." The tension between Merlin and Arthur went unmentioned, but judging by the look on Merlin's face, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Gwaine sobered quickly, and Gwen thought his face looked almost strange without its characteristic grin. "Well, it's not like people have much to be happy about with all these arrests, do they?"

"Gwaine!" Merlin hissed, shooting Gwen a worried look. She winced at that. She may be- close to Arthur but that didn't mean that her best friend should be wary of speaking his mind in front of her. And since when did Merlin care if Arthur knew he disapproved of his decisions, anyway? The whole situation just kept getting stranger and stranger the more she thought about it. Gwen realised the two men had still been arguing while she was zoned out.

"Come on, Merlin. Everyone's thinking it," Gwaine was saying irritably. "They're just too scared to stand up to the Princess and tell him to pull his head out of his-"

"Gwaine," Merlin groaned again and looked at Gwen pointedly. She narrowed her eyes at him, growing irritated.

"Well, he _is _being an idiot so I'm only telling the truth," the knight muttered.

Gwen couldn't disagree with that. She was trying her best to be supportive, especially so soon after Arthur had lost his father, but it was all just too reminiscent of Uther's reign. Her family had suffered too much at Uther's hands for her to be comfortable with this witch hunt.

"It's awful, isn't it? It feels like…" Gwen felt disloyal thinking it but… it was the truth. She had never let herself turn a blind eye to injustice before and she wouldn't start now simply to spare Arthur's feelings. She felt ashamed that she hadn't spoken up until then. Perhaps that was what made Merlin so hesitant to criticise Arthur's decisions in front of her. "It feels like Uther never left. I feel so guilty because this time, I'm probably the only one of the townspeople who's actually _safe_."

"Oh, Gwen," Merlin said, still running his fingers through her hair comfortingly "You shouldn't feel guilty. None of this is your fault. The only person responsible for all of this is Arthur."

"But-" she started, then winced at her automatic defense of Arthur. "Well, yes, he _is_ responsible. But it's only because of Agravaine's advice. I'm sure he only wants what's best for Arthur but this time he's _wrong_. Arresting people and hurting innocents _can't_ be the solution to our problems."

"You try telling _Arthur_ that," Merlin muttered bitterly.

"Wait, is this what you two are fighting about?" Gwen asked, startled.

Merlin's expression shuttered immediately. "Something like that."

Gwaine snorted. "What?" he said defensively when both Merlin and Gwen turned to look at him. "I just think maybe everyone should stop trying to make excuses for him. We both know he did more than just disagree with you, Merlin." Gwen frowned in confusion at that but Merlin refused to look at her, instead simply staring stonily ahead as Gwaine continued angrily. "And I honestly couldn't care less if he's trying to please his uncle, or live up to his father's expectations, or anything, because _he's hurting people_. Have you seen the people in the lower town? The families of everyone he's arrested? Agravaine didn't make him do that- no one did. He's a grown man, for God's sake; he can make his own decisions and I am _sick _of hearing people blame Agravaine for his decisions!"

There was a long silence following Gwaine's outburst; the only sound was his heavy breathing as his friends stared at him in varying degrees of surprise. Merlin may have been slightly more used to seeing Gwaine's serious side but the knight was usually very slow to anger.

Gwen had had no idea that he felt so strongly about the situation, but his words just intensified the guilt she'd been feeling ever since the search for Emrys had started. He was right, she thought. She _had_ been making excuses for Arthur this whole time. What he was doing was so wrong and yet she hadn't really tried to talk him out of it, instead hoping it would all simply end soon. Why had she done that? She loved Arthur but she'd promised herself long ago that she would never remain silent when he made a mistake. [read all of this dmkdaw]

"Oh God, you're right," she said, feeling sick. "How could we let him do this?"

It showed how well Merlin knew her, that he understood what she was thinking immediately and tilted her face up to meet her eyes intently. "Gwen, you mustn't blame yourself for this. As Gwaine was just saying, Arthur can make his own decisions, and I know that we've never really acted like it but… You_ do_ realise it's not your responsibility to make him act like a decent person, right? Neither of us should have to."

Gwen opened and closed her mouth a few times at that. It was true that ever since the three of them had become friends, she and Merlin had sort of acted like Arthur's conscience. When Gaius was about to be burnt at the stake, they'd stopped him, but shouldn't he have known it was wrong all by himself? When Uther had almost burnt _her_ alive, Arthur had argued but not done much else to save her before Merlin and Morgana urged him to find the monster poisoning the water. They were little things, but now that she thought about it, she found herself wondering why she and Merlin had taken it upon themselves to make sure Arthur did what he was s_upposed_ to do all on his own.

"I- I feel very confused," Gwen breathed at last. "The two of you have given me a lot to think about. Things that have never really occurred to me before…"

"Arthur isn't a bad person," Merlin said quietly but firmly. "But we've let him depend on us and blame others for his own mistakes far too many times. He needs to learn to grow and improve by himself."

Gwen nodded unhappily. She hated to think that she'd allowed herself to ignore Arthur's failings just because she loved him. "I know you're right. Just… I can't stand by and let innocent people suffer without trying to do anything about it. I should've brought it up with Arthur long before now."

"Merlin tried to," Gwaine spoke up, ignoring the glare Merlin sent his way. "It didn't work out so well for him, but then again, Arthur would probably listen to _you_. Merlin's the only one he thinks he can get away with treating like garbage."

"Thank you for that, Gwaine. I need to get back to work," Merlin snapped and pulled himself to his feet. He hesitated for a moment, his countenance softening slightly as he saw Gwaine's contrite expression, then said more gently, "I'll see you later tonight."

Gwaine let out a relieved sigh as Merlin walked back toward the city gates. A few moments passed before he and Gwen both stood up as well. "We should probably head back too," he mumbled awkwardly, then looked up at her with another sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm angry at Arthur and this whole awful situation but I shouldn't have spoken to you and Merlin that way. It's not your fault."

"It's alright, Gwaine. You were right," Gwen replied, leaning down to pick up her basket. "I'm glad you said the things you did or I may not have realised how I- how _we_ have all been treating Arthur this whole time. It needed to be said, and you've never been one to shy away from telling the truth, no matter how unpleasant it is."

Gwaine smiled wryly. "I guess not."

"You don't need to apologise to me, Gwaine. I should be _thanking_ you so… thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied then nodded toward Merlin's retreating figure. "Are you going after him then?"

Gwen blinked in surprise; he really was more perceptive than people gave him credit for. "Yes, I still want to speak with him. I need to know what happened between him and Arthur." Gwaine winced. "Is it really that bad?"

"Yes," the knight answered with no hesitation. "And I think it's also been a lot of little things piling up. Arthur's never treated him well."

"I know," Gwen admitted guiltily. "I could always see that but I never said anything because Merlin didn't and I thought, if he didn't mind… I know that's still wrong." She sighed. _I've really made a lot of mistakes when it comes to Arthur's behaviour, haven't I? _"I need to go catch up with Merlin. I'm glad I spoke to you, Gwaine. Thank you again."

He smiled and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder. That was the good thing about being friends with Gwaine, she thought; he treated her just the same as he did any of the other knights. "Just knock some sense into the Princess for me, yeah?"

"I plan to," she assured him in a dark tone before the two of them finally parted ways at the city gate.

As Gwen walked briskly toward the castle and Merlin, she wondered how she would get the most secretive man she knew to tell her exactly what had happened between him and Arthur.

* * *

"…so Elyan told Leon what the other knights were planning to do," Merlin said brightly. He saw Gwen open her mouth and quickly continued to chatter. "But Percival had already anticipated that he would tattle to get back at them for the prank they played on him last month, so it turned out it was all a trick and Leon was never the target! While he and Elyan were busy trying to-"

"Merlin-"

"-find the trap that was supposed to be hidden in his room, the knights were leaving a little surprise in _Elyan's_ room-"

"Merlin, will you shut up!" Gwen finally exclaimed which effectively cut him off as he turned to stare at her in shock. Since when did _Gwen_ tell people to shut up? Arthur was rubbing off on her.

"Well, that's just rude," Merlin muttered.

She just narrowed her eyes at him. "Ruder than you babbling nonstop for the past five minutes without letting me get a word in?"

"Are you telling me you don't want to hear about this tale?"

"No."

"But the drama! The betrayal, the lies-"

"Merlin," Gwen groaned, "if you don't want to tell me something, you can just say that instead of giving me a headache."

He managed to stay silent for a few moments. Then, "It _is_ a good story, though."

"What happened between you and Arthur, Merlin?" Gwen sighed. "And why are you so determined to keep it from me? Don't think I didn't notice you trying to shut Gwaine up out there when he was criticising Arthur in front of me. Do you really think so little of me that-"

"No! I just don't want to put you into a position where you have to choose between doing the right thing and your loyalty to Arthur." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I know better than anyone how difficult that can be."

Gwen just looked confused. "There is no choice, Merlin. My loyalty to him is the _reason_ I want to tell him that what he's doing is wrong. You _do_ know that you can disagree with Arthur without betraying him, right?"

"That's not how _he_ sees it, apparently," Merlin said with a humourless laugh, before finally sighing and giving in. It was Gwen, after all; she was always fair. She would always do the right thing, regardless of her own feelings. "I don't want to spend too much time thinking about it all again so… The gist of it is that I tried to convince Arthur to put a stop to the searches and let Emrys go, he disagreed, I criticised his father, and he reminded of my place as a servant and threatened me for speaking my mind."

The room was ominously silent for a few moments before Gwen's glacial voice rang out, "He told you _what_?"

"I think you heard the first time I said it," Merlin replied wryly. "Honestly, I'm tired of thinking about it all. The king clearly doesn't want to properly apologise to his _manservant_, and I have bigger things to worry about. I didn't expect this but… I'm the happiest I've ever been right now."

"_Happiest_\- why?" his friend asked disbelievingly.

"Let's just say I've found my calling."

Gwen eyed him at that cryptic response. "Right… Well, I'm glad but that doesn't mean I'm going to let this go. Don't worry, I won't involve you; I can see you want nothing to do with this and I don't blame you. I _am_ going to have a talk with Arthur, though."

"You don't have to do that on my behalf."

"Yes, I do," she countered. "You deserve better, Merlin, you always have. And it's not just on your behalf. I'm a servant too, remember? We _all_ deserve better."

"I know. I once thought Arthur knew that too," Merlin said. As much as he didn't really care about what Arthur had said to him, he was simply disappointed. He'd thought Arthur was better than that, that he wasn't one of the nobles who thought themselves superior to everyone else.

"He does, Merlin. He just needs to be reminded of it," insisted Gwen, although the troubled look on her face betrayed her unease.

Merlin just nodded, keeping his doubts to himself. Even if Arthur didn't look down on servants in general, he certainly looked down on _Merlin_, and that was something he could no longer stomach. At the moment, though, Merlin had something else on his mind besides Arthur. The way Gwen so easily accepted his side of the story despite her love for Arthur made him question his decision to keep his magic a secret from her. He knew Gaius would probably say he was being an idiot but Gwaine had shown him that he could trust his friends- or at least some of them- not to turn on him. And Gwen had been his very first friend. Really, just telling her about his fight with Arthur felt good, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He couldn't bring himself to reveal himself to her just yet, but it was something to think about.

"You're welcome to try to get through to him," he finally said mildly. "You'll probably have better luck than me."

It would hurt, undoubtedly, if Arthur chose to listen to her where he had brushed off Merlin's advice, but it would be worth it to keep his people safe. Gwen obviously could not believe that her beloved would hurt her as he had hurt Merlin, and Merlin just prayed that she would not be disappointed.

* * *

"Yes! I did it!"

Merlin winced at Bradan's triumphant- and very loud- shriek, still smiling with pride nonetheless.

"Well done," he praised warmly as the boy finally stopped bouncing with glee and pointing at the lit candle before him.

"I lit it with my _mind_," he exclaimed. "I'm a proper sorcerer now! Emrys who?"

Merlin snorted. "I wouldn't go that far just yet."

"Oh, shush; let him enjoy it," Fawn chided and ruffled her brother's hair gently. "Good job, Bradan."

He really _had_ done well. According to a reluctantly supportive Gaius, it was supposed to take an average sorcerer longer than four weeks to successfully access their magic- in the absence of powerful emotions. That Bradan had achieved it so quickly boded well for his future control and power, or so Merlin thought; he wasn't exactly an expert yet despite spending most of his free time studying and searching for new things to teach his student. Bradan's performance showed how much effort Merlin was putting into his teaching, and Fawn had started taking every opportunity to thank him repeatedly, much to both his and Bradan's embarrassment.

Bradan was rapidly becoming more proficient at controlling his magic, and Merlin thought that he could soon begin to teach him proper spells. His own knowledge and control had improved significantly since he'd begun teaching the boy, who spent every lesson soaking up every word Merlin said with wide, admiring eyes. It had been uncomfortable at first but Merlin soon found that he liked it. There were too few instances in his life where he felt powerful anymore. Of course, he didn't just want to teach Bradan to feel powerful; after being constantly disrespected for so long, it did feel good to be treated like someone worthy of respect and even admiration, but Merlin genuinely cared for Bradan. Although he could do without some of the teenager's antics and pranks.

He'd already been subjected to three separate pranks in the weeks since he'd started teaching Bradan, the most memorable of which involved him actually being kidnapped from his rooms in his sleep- courtesy of a mild sleeping draft- and left undressed in the castle courtyard overnight. That day had almost broken his resolve to completely ignore his king until he learned to not be a prat; the urge to explain was too strong. Of course, that incident had brought Bradan's pranks to Gwaine's attention and apparently 'inspired' him, so Merlin hadn't been able to let his guard down since.

The pranks were the reason Merlin didn't believe it at first; it seemed all too likely that Bradan (and perhaps Gwaine was in on it as well) had decided to trick him again. Fawn had needed to intervene in order to convince him that, yes, there were several other sorcerers peacefully living in Camelot with their families, and Bradan had already managed to befriend them. Her brother had chimed in at that point to earnestly assure Merlin that he was keeping an eye out for any others, and did Merlin want to meet his new friends? After a few minutes, he'd finally managed to stutter that he would consider it.

He still hadn't recovered from the shock of realising that there were quite that many sorcerers in Camelot. Although, of course, three others besides himself- as far as he knew- wouldn't be much in any other country. Fawn had teased him relentlessly for spending quite a few minutes gaping in shock but given the fact that, until a few weeks ago, he had believed himself the only sorcerer in Camelot, he thought his reaction was justified. Merlin had spent a few days deeply in thought and eventually decided to accept Bradan's offer to introduce him to their other kin. He was afraid, and making contact with sorcerers was much harder when he didn't already know and trust them as he did Bradan, but he _had_ resolved to be more involved with his people.

That was why, once Bradan and Fawn calmed down a bit and finally put out the candle, Merlin cleared his throat nervously to get their attention.

"I've been thinking," he began. "Do you remember the sorcerers you told me about?"

Fawn snorted, and Merlin realised what a stupid question that was but thankfully, Bradan was kinder than his sister and merely said excitedly, "Yes! Have you decided to meet them after all?"

Merlin took a deep breath. _This is what I'm meant to do._ "Yes," he replied. "Yes, I have."

As Bradan launched into a detailed description of each of his new friends, Merlin suddenly felt certain that this decision was somehow more important than he'd thought.

Somehow, he _knew_... things would change.

* * *

Three weeks.

It had been _three weeks _since Arthur had exchanged more words with Merlin than was absolutely necessary for them to perform their jobs. Three weeks since he'd last felt happy and comfortable in his own castle, and Arthur's sadness had quickly turned into anger. What right did Merlin have to turn his back on him after everything he'd done for him? He was a servant, yet Arthur gave him so much freedom that many nobles- his uncle included- looked down on him for it. He had even left Camelot for Merlin's sake when his village was attacked, against his father's orders. The two of them had fought and bled together for years, so for Merlin to simply abandon him over a ridiculous argument so soon after Morgana's betrayal… it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The only consolation had been that he at least still had his uncle and Guinevere. Until that morning.

Arthur had walked out of his morning meetings in a black mood (which he refused to associate with Merlin, or his infuriating silence and competence in all his duties) and headed back to his chambers, only to find Guinevere waiting for him there. She was rearranging the papers on his desk, incapable of sitting idle as usual. With her hair breaking free from its braid to frame her face and the sunlight streaming in through the window to light up her figure… she was _radiant_. Just like that, Arthur suddenly found it hard to recall what it was exactly that he was so angry about a few minutes ago.

"Good morning, Guinevere," he greeted softly, reaching out to put an arm around her waist. Loosely, though; he always wanted her to have the choice to pull away.

She smiled at him- _God, she is beautiful_\- and shifted closer. "Good morning, Arthur. I hope you don't mind that I cleaned your desk up a bit."

"Not at all," he assured her. He wished he didn't have to. "Thank you, Guinevere."

For a few minutes they just stood there, basking in each other's presence. The two of them were always so busy, they rarely got the chance to just spend time together like this. Of course, Arthur knew he should be more grateful; a few years ago, they would not have been able to get this far. Now, at least, he could hold her openly and ignore the vicious whispers about their relationship. Now he actually had _hope_ that the two of them could someday marry. It was all nearly perfect.

Arthur tried not to think about what his father would have done.

"Arthur," Guinevere murmured, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I wanted to speak to you about something."

He hummed questioningly, still not very worried. That would change shortly.

"It's about Merlin." That got his attention, and he could feeling himself tensing already. "And about the recent searches- and arrests- your knights have been conducting."

_No_. The blasted arrests again. They had turned Merlin against him; would Guinevere abandon him too? Arthur swallowed, telling himself he was being silly, but judging by the determined look on his beloved's face, she was not going to be deterred from pursuing this topic of conversation.

"What about Merlin, then?" he eventually managed to grit out. Best to put off speaking about the arrests.

Guinevere was silent for some time, simply studying his face in that steely, disconcerting manner of hers. He usually enjoyed it when she did that to the nobles who thought they could get away with disrespecting her; at the moment, Arthur sympathized with all those poor souls.

Once she was satisfied with her unsettling inspection of his face, she finally spoke. "He loves you." _What?_ That had not been what Arthur was expecting. "He has always been loyal- not to Camelot, but to _you_. Throughout everything, every single struggle you've faced in the past few years, Merlin has always been by your side, even when no one else was." Here she paused and looked him straight in the eye with the kind of disappointed expression that he'd hoped to never see directed toward him. "Even when you treated him like he was worthless."

Arthur gaped at her. "_Worthless_? That's- No! I've always allowed him to be himself, even when he's completely disrespectful! Do you think the other nobles haven't noticed and mocked me for it? He acts like someone so far above his station that any other master would have punished him a_ges_ ago."

Unfortunately, Arthur's words only seemed to have angered Guinevere. "Oh, you _allow_ him to be himself. Should all of us worthless servants be grateful to you for your graciousness then? I mean, it's not like we're people or anything; it's completely insolent and disrespectful of us to have opinions or disagree with you. We wouldn't want to force you to remind us of our station, right?"

Arthur flinched. Well, that certainly answered the question of whether Merlin had told her about their fight.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said desperately. "I just meant that I don't treat him like he's worthless- I don't think he is!"

"I know you care about him, Arthur, but you take him for granted. You insult and humiliate him on a daily basis because you think that he couldn't possibly leave you. I've never seen you treat _anyone_ like that, and Merlin deserves better than to have his loyalty rewarded with mistreatment just because he cares too much to turn his back on you."

That hurt. Did she really think that? Did Merlin? Did _Arthur_ think that? He didn't want to believe that he would take advantage of his friend's loyalty to mistreat him without facing the consequences but… Merlin was often the one he took his anger and frustration out on whenever he couldn't hurt the actual targets of his ire. Because Arthur knew that his servant would take it and stick by him regardless.

It was all true, now that Arthur thought about it, but it _hurt_. He'd spent so long taking his best friend for granted and hurting him while Merlin was too- afraid?- to speak up. Why had no one said anything? Why had Merlin _stayed_ when he should've left Arthur years ago?

"I'm sorry," Arthur breathed. "I am, but he won't speak to me. I am trying- I _will_ try to do better by him. And all of you."

Guinevere's eyes softened. Arthur wished it was that easy to earn Merlin's forgiveness but he knew he hadn't really deserved it yet when he made that first half-hearted apology.

"He still cares, you know; he would forgive you if you gave him a reason to do so." Guinevere paused for a moment then continued carefully, "And that is not all I wished to speak to you about."

"Yes," he sighed. "You agree with Merlin about the arrests." It was not a question and Guinevere did not bother trying to deny it.

"Why are you doing this, Arthur? What do you hope to achieve by putting us all through this again?"

"Guinevere, I'm doing my best to protect Camelot. You of all people know how dangerous sorcerers are."

"Me of all people?" she echoed.

_How to put this delicately?_ "Sorcery took your father from you," Arthur finally said and could immediately hear Merlin's voice in his head telling him what a prat he was as Guinevere stiffened.

"Your father took my father from me," she corrected sharply. "Your father's hatred of magic destroyed so many people's lives. Do you really want to follow in his footsteps?"

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur said disbelievingly. "You have no right to speak about him that way. You were not there before the Great Purge. Sorcery was destroying Camelot! My father defended our people from the monsters who-"

"You were not there either," she interjected. "And what terrible crime did my father commit, that Uther felt the need to defend Camelot from him?"

"That was a terrible mistake, Guinevere," Arthur admitted. It was one of the few things he could never forgive his father for.

"A terrible mistake? Is that supposed to make me feel better? My father is _dead_," Guinevere cried angrily, tears forming in her eyes. "How can you deny that your father went too far in his war against magic when he killed an innocent man without even giving him a fair trial?"

Arthur closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He and Guinevere had almost never fought, and he _hated_ this. He hated how it felt to see her to hurt and disappointed because of _him_. This needed to stop.

"This isn't about my father," he finally replied. "All I have done is try to find the sorcerer hiding in my city. I am not my father, and I have killed no innocents."

"No, you've just arrested them," she retorted, no less angry now that the conversation had shifted away from her father. "You've just ransacked their homes and disrupted their lives."

That wasn't fair. Arthur had to do whatever was necessary to protect Camelot from its enemies and she _knew_ that. How was he to find the sorcerer without searching the town?

"All of those arrested were found to be in possession of forbidden objects- charms, and books of magic," he started in an attempt to defend his actions but was cut off by his beloved once more.

"No, Arthur, just listen to me. It doesn't matter. For a while there, it felt like Camelot had changed. Like everything was different- _better_. Perhaps it's a difficult for you to notice when you spend most of your time up here in your castle but everyone was so much happier. Your people believed in you, Arthur. They believed that you weren't like your father, that you would never hurt them. And all of this, these arrests, turning people against each other, making them fear for their lives, for their families… You've just let them down." She looked at him earnestly and took his hands in hers. "You're better than this, Arthur; I _know_ you are. You can't continue to let hatred and fear drive you. If you don't put a stop to this, you will turn your people against you. A good king does what _he_ believes is right, not what his father or uncle tell him is."

_How could she say that? He was a terrible friend, and now a terrible king too? _Arthur couldn't deal with this. Not after everything that had happened in the past month.

"Please leave," he whispered, no longer caring if he appeared weak.

"Arthur, I want to _help_ you-"

"Guinevere, _please leave_," he repeated firmly and hated himself for the hurt he was clearly causing her, but he just _couldn't_ deal with this right then. Guinevere only studied his face for a moment before she turned on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving Arthur free to finally collapse on his bed.

He wanted to hit something, or scream, or... he wanted to cry. He was ashamed to admit it even in his own head- his father had scorned such weakness even when Arthur was a child- but he helplessly let out a sob before he managed to choke back his tears. One by one, the people he cared about were turning against him. It didn't seem to matter that he was _trying_, that he was doing his very best to be a good king; he always ended up disappointing them, just as he had always disappointed his father. Guinevere thought he was a failure of a king. Gwaine could hardly look him in the eyes most days, and the rest of the knights closest to him weren't much better. Even Merlin, his truest friend, had abandoned him.

Arthur stared blankly at his ceiling. He had no one left but his uncle now. He could not afford to let him down too.


	10. Of Doubt And Fractured Trust

**I'm not sure if anyone was still waiting for this, but I'm finally back with a new chapter, introducing some new characters! I want to thank everyone who's been leaving reviews; I can't believe we're up to 69 reviews now (sorry, I couldn't resist throwing that in there ;) )! As you may have noticed, it's shorter than usual, because I've decided it's best to post shorter chapters more frequently. The next chapter is halfway done so expect it by next Monday! I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep doing weekly updates but I'm giving it a try. Let me know if you like it better this way or prefer the longer (but much slower) updates!**

* * *

Sir Leon was not accustomed to feeling uncertain. He was a knight of Camelot; every morning, he woke up, trained his knights, went out on patrols when necessary and obeyed his king's commands. There was little change to be found- despite what people said about the thrill and excitement of a knight's life- and everyone and everything followed a natural order. Leon _liked_ order.

That was why he had found himself so very uncomfortable these past weeks. He was not stupid, certainly; a knight of his rank had to be able to strategise and think on his feet in order to outsmart his enemies. A knight of his rank was not, however, meant to _question_ things. Especially his king's decisions. It was a very strange and unfamiliar experience that he really had no idea how to deal with.

Leon decided that he blamed Merlin for it.

A few years ago, Leon would have never thought to disagree with his king. The one exception had of course been when King Uther had married a troll, but that obviously didn't count because _he married a troll_. That particular incident aside, Leon had always done as his king ordered him to without question; it was what he was trained to do. Then a young peasant boy arrived at Camelot, insulted their prince to his face, stubbornly refused to act like a servant, and changed everything.

Leon didn't think that was an exaggeration at all. The change had been gradual, sneaking up on them all until it was too late to do anything about it. The knight was ashamed to admit that, in the beginning, he had disliked the prince's manservant on principle because of his disrespect toward his betters. Or at least those that Leon had _thought_ were his betters. He didn't think that way anymore, and he had long ago vowed never to tell Merlin or any of the common-born knights that he'd once looked down on them- he shuddered to think what Gwaine would do if he knew- but unlearning everything he'd been taught about blood and nobility from birth had been a long process. A long process that he hadn't been able to share with anyone, because the conservative nobles would have shunned him while the more accepting nobles like Arthur or Sir Kay would have been disappointed in him for his backward thinking, regardless of how difficult it was to truly change one's beliefs so drastically.

Needless to say, it was _hard_. And Leon was privately very proud of his progress.

However, it was one thing to accept that nobles were no better than commoners and another to actually begin questioning his king's decisions. Knowing that unfortunately did nothing to quell his doubts.

And so that left him here, slumped in bed and debating whether he should say anything or remain silent. On one hand, he didn't know how Arthur would react if he tried to discuss the search or Emrys with him but Leon suspected that it would not be pretty. He normally would not need to tiptoe around the king so- Arthur always attempted to be just and open-minded- but he was noticeably in a Very Bad Mood these past few days, the likes of which heralded long, painful training sessions and excessive patrols for the knights. That was probably another thing to blame Merlin for, although Leon had noticed some tension between Arthur and Gwen recently. He tried not to even think about his king's love life, however, lest he lose his head for interfering.

On the other hand, Leon felt it was his responsibility as a senior knight to speak up before the king on behalf of his fellow knights, most of whom were not bold enough to confront Arthur no matter how much they disagreed with his decisions. They rarely ever did, of course, which made it all the more important for Leon to bring their complaints to the king. Not to mention that it was never a good idea to ignore unrest within the ranks of the knights; they were the kingdom's first defense and the king _needed_ them to be on his side. It had not yet reached the point where the knights would question their loyalty to Arthur- and Leon doubted it would _ever_ reach that point- but nevertheless, most of the knights were uncomfortable with his recent decisions.

Leon found it odd that most people assumed that the knights of Camelot all despised magic as much as the late King Uther did. The knights, like everyone else, had lived in Camelot before the Purge and most of the older ones had a rather… relaxed attitude toward sorcery. Of course, the younger knights who were indoctrinated into King Uther's beliefs were more mistrustful of magic, but few truly hated sorcerers as much as their king would have wanted them to. They all had families too and never enjoyed the witch hunts that tore families apart, although they dutifully carried out King Uther's orders; they had no choice. Leon had never personally done it himself, but he knew several knights had been rather- lax with security when arresting people who didn't even _have_ magic. The old king may have thought that owning a few banned books or good luck charms were grounds for execution but most of his knights evidently believed otherwise. Had Leon actually _witnessed_ any of them disobeying their king like that, he would have been duty-bound to report them, so most of his subordinates kept their misdeeds hidden from him, and he was happy to pretend none of it ever happened.

When Arthur became king, the knights, like most people, had privately thought with no small amount of relief that they would never have to live through another witch hunt. After all, King Arthur's mercy and compassion were only outweighed by his love for his people; he would never put them through such horrors again if he could help it. It seemed, however, that they were all mistaken.

The knights were not pleased.

The mass arrests meant that no one would notice if a few people- children, mostly- slipped through the cracks, but there were still too many innocents currently residing in the dungeons because the knights could only save so many when the king _specifically_ ordered them to arrest anyone with even the slightest relation to sorcery, regardless of whether they were actually sorcerers themselves. And to make matters worse, he put his uncle in charge of overseeing the searches, rather than one of the knights. The man was keeping a close eye on them and he let them get away with very little, which led to Leon wondering if he should speak to the King on behalf of his outraged knights. And the outraged townsfolk- everyone but the most fanatical opponents of magic, really, which was almost everyone in Camelot.

Not that the people of Camelot were particularly _friendly_ towards sorcerers, but most simply didn't care one way or another so long as their lives were not affected. They certainly hated witch hunts far more than they did sorcerers. It was not _magic_ that trashed their homes and stole away their loved ones on the slightest suspicion, after all. There, Leon saw Lord Agravaine's influence. Were it not for his- advice, Arthur would have never arrested any of his people based on hearsay and entirely without evidence. There was no doubt that Lord Agravaine meant well, but being one of the late King Uther's contemporaries clearly meant that he was just as irrational when it came to magic.

Leon would never say that out loud, though, and especially not to the king. He liked having his head on his shoulders, thank you very much.

Oh well, at least he could always count on Sir Gwaine to bluntly inform Arthur of what everyone else was thinking but could not say out of respect. But not fear, never fear; Arthur did not rule that way. Or at least he hadn't until very recently.

Leon sighed. No matter how long and hard he thought about it, he could not seem to come to a decision. He could ignore the problem and show his support for Arthur regardless of public opinion. Or he could confront Arthur and make his position known, thus risking his friendship with the king. These doubts had been plaguing him for weeks, and he could hardly sleep without thinking about it all. He knew he would have to choose between his King and his country eventually but he wanted to put it off just a little bit longer. Until then, he would continue to suffer from sleep deprivation and think about his choices.

_Arthur or Camelot_, he thought to himself. _Arthur or Camelot?_

* * *

Merlin's throat was dry. He nervously wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, foot tapping rapidly as he just barely managed to stop himself from getting up to pace. He could see Fawn giving him amused looks (mocking, really, but it didn't make him feel better to think about that so he simply wouldn't) but he ignored her. It wasn't like he could just _stop_ feeling nervous. Not with this being the first meeting he'd have with other sorcerers since he'd decided to embrace his title and powers; Bradan didn't really count as they'd known each other for years before, and he was an easily pleased fifteen year old. Making a good impression on fully grown adults who might judge him for not doing anything to help their kind would be far more difficult. What if they hated him? What if they thought he should be doing _more_ to change Arthur's mind about magic? What if they thought he was too young to be respected? Merlin looked down at himself. Even _he_ didn't think he looked like an all-powerful sorcerer.

Merlin reflected that riding out of Camelot to fight a dragon had somehow seemed less terrifying than this. He heard a loud sigh and glanced up to see Fawn looking at him pityingly.

"Merlin," she said, placing a firm hand on his bouncing knee, "there's nothing to be afraid of. They're perfectly friendly folk."

"But what if they hate me?" Merlin asked, quite distressed and not appreciating the way Fawn was sniggering at him. She wasn't even trying to hide it!

"They won't. You're the great and powerful Emrys, after all," she replied dryly. "All sorcerers love you."

"Not really; I've gotten a few killed," he mumbled. "They'll probably think I'm a failure. I haven't done anything for our people, really. I'm not even-"

"Merlin, these people _live_ here," Fawn interjected. "They have known you, or at least known _of_ you, for years so they know you're an idiot. Do you really think they expect much of you?" Merlin shot her an affronted glare and was about to make a no doubt scathing retort when she added with a smirk, "Hell, they've probably thrown rotten vegetables at you at some point."

"That makes it worse," Merlin said plaintively. "You do realise that's worse, right?"

She rolled her eyes for what must have been the hundredth time that day. "The point is that they don't expect you to be some wise, awe inspiring warlock; they're fully aware that you're an idiot at least half the time."

"Thank you, Fawn," Merlin muttered sullenly and got only a bright smile in reply.

The two of them then sat in silence until Bradan's new friends arrived. The three sorcerers didn't arrive together; it was the man named Aiden who came first. He was a portly older man with thin brown hair and a rosy complexion. His patched shirt and badly frayed breeches were even shabbier than the clothes worn by the other commoners in the lower town, and his calloused palms spoke to a lifetime of hard work in the city's markets.

Overall, Merlin thought, Aiden looked far too ordinary to be a law-breaking magic user. But then again, didn't Merlin always complain about people thinking he was harmless simply because of the way he looked?

"Evening, Fawn, Merlin," the man said cheerfully, taking a seat at the table before they could return his greeting.

"Good evening, Aiden. No need to wait for an invitation to sit down or anything!" Fawn said tartly.

Aiden simply grinned, unfazed by her attitude. "Course not." He turned to Merlin. "So you're that magic druid king Bradan was telling us about, then?"

Merlin let out an embarrassed squeak as Fawn began snickering next to him. "That's- No! I'm not a _magic druid king_. I'm just Merlin- that is, Emrys. Well, Merlin really but the druids call me Emrys instead. It's just a title."

Aiden nodded wisely. "Right, so you _are_ the druid king then. Got it."

"Definitely," Fawn chirped as her long-suffering friend groaned. "They even bow to him, you know."

"You're awful," Merlin whined. He _really_ hoped Bradan hadn't told anyone else about all of the "druid king" nonsense Fawn filled his head with. Oh, who was he kidding? The boy had probably told everyone he knew who had magic.

Before Fawn could reply, the door opened once more, and their little gathering was finally made complete as Bradan walked in proudly, leading two middle-aged women by the hand and immediately pointing Merlin out to them. "That's Emrys!"

Merlin pasted on a pained smile as the two witches studied him. He was surprised to find that he recognised one of them. Mavis was a seamstress who provided clothing for some of the lesser noble families residing in Camelot; her son was a butcher, Merlin recalled, and he wondered why the young man wasn't here too. Children didn't always inherit their parents' gifts, of course, but most sorcerers tended to teach their families at least _some_ magic.

Merlin shrugged the thought off and shifted his gaze to the second witch- whom Bradan excitedly introduced as "Brienne. They're _twins_!"- as she too stared at him with a rather unimpressed look on her thin face. While she and her sister looked almost identical, with their dark hair and stormy grey eyes, their clothing could not have been more different. They were both clearly commoners but it was immediately apparent that Brienne was not as well off as her twin, probably because she did not cater to the nobles and rich merchants Mavis dealt with.

Brienne was the one to finally interrupt Bradan's unnecessarily long introductions. "Emrys, eh?" she drawled.

Merlin coloured. He knew exactly what he looked like, thank you very much, and he did not think it was the woman's place to judge him.

"Don't mind my sister's rudeness, Merlin," Mavis said earnestly before he could come up with a suitable reply. "She's had no manners ever since we were children." She ignored the kick Brienne aimed at her.

"It's alright. I'm used to people being surprised that _I'm_ Emrys," Merlin replied.

"Well, I must admit you don't really look the part." Merlin glared at Mavis. _I thought she was the nice one._ "No offence," she added belatedly.

"You don't look much like a witch either, if we're being frank," Fawn retorted, as her brother looked between all of them with wide eyes. It was Aiden who broke the tension, however.

"And a good thing that is for all of us, eh?" he said, then beckoned Bradan and the two witches over. "Come sit, then; make yourself at home. Fawn here has assured me that there's no need to wait on her for permission."

Fawn just shook her head with a sigh as they unquestioningly moved to obey. A few minutes later, all six of them were settled on various surfaces in Fawn and Bradan's home (an attempt to sit on the dining table ended with Bradan being banished to sit on the ground) with warm bowls of soup before them. Merlin slurped his portion loudly, fully aware of the twins' disgusted gazes on him. Not that he was doing it on purpose to get back at them for their offensive comments. Obviously not. He wasn't that petty.

Brienne cleared her throat. "So," she began forcefully, eyes still fixed on Merlin and his soup, "if you're meant to free us magical folk from the Pendragons, why are you serving the king?"

"Brienne, you can't expect him to free _anyone_ yet; he's barely out of his teens!" Aiden exclaimed before Merlin could reply.

"I know that! I didn't mean to imply that he should be saving us right now," snapped Brienne. Next to her, Mavis was already rubbing her forehead and staring at the ceiling in exasperation. "But I want to know why he's been cozying up to King Arthur for the past few years." She turned back to face Merlin with narrowed eyes. "Do you have some plan to get rid of him?"

Merlin jerked back. "No, of course not!" The three sorcerers stared at him with varying degrees of surprise. "Do you all really think that I want to betray Arthur?" he asked incredulously.

"I suppose you wouldn't," Aiden said after a short pause. "I'd heard that the two of you were very close, although I did wonder if that was some deception on your part."

"I can see why you were close to him," Mavis said quietly, cutting off her prickly sister. "We always thought he was a better man and king than his father, especially when he welcomed the druids back to Camelot. Surely things are different now, though? Now that he's started hunting our people once more?"

She wasn't wrong, and none of them really knew Arthur like he did so it wouldn't mean anything to them if he told them what a good man he was. Hell, Merlin _knew_ that Arthur was good, and he was still angry.

"I never expected Arthur to do anything like this, and the fact that he's doing it because of his uncle doesn't make it any better," he sighed. Mavis cocked her head thoughtfully at the mention of Agravaine but did not interrupt. "He didn't even listen when I tried to talk him out of this course of action. It's been… disappointing. Nevertheless, I have no intentions of betraying Arthur. We may all be angry with him but he is still my friend and my king."

"Your friend who slaughters our people," Mavis muttered. Surprisingly, it was Brienne who jumped to his defense.

"You mean he _arrests _our people. He hasn't slaughtered anyone just yet," she retorted snidely before nodding to Merlin. "Nothing wrong with loyalty. He's your friend and you won't turn on him; I respect that, even if I can't stand the man, personally."

"Oh," Merlin said dumbly. He hadn't expected Brienne to side with him. "Uh, thank you."

They returned to peacefully drinking their soup, until Bradan helpfully added, "Anyway, King Arthur is the One and Future King, so we're supposed to like him too!"

"King Arthur is the what, now?" Aiden asked in confusion, at the same time that Brienne cried, "That's absolutely ridiculous!"

Mavis chose not to comment on Bradan's revelation, and simply answered Aiden instead. "The Once and Future King is another figure of prophecy that often appears alongside Emrys in druidic legend," she explained. "It is said that with Emrys' guidance, this King will return magic to Camelot and unite all the lands of Albion."

"Which is why he obviously _cannot_ be a Pendragon," Brienne said firmly. "After everything they've done-"

Merlin interrupted her. "Arthur _is_ the Once and Future King."

"But… he _can't_ be," Brienne protested. "How can you be sure?"

"Brienne, I'm certain that if anyone knows, it's Emrys," her sister said calmly.

"I, for one, would love to see the lad destroy everything his father worked so hard to build," Aiden laughed. "Can you imagine it, Uther's son bringing magic back? The old man would roll in his grave!"

"It's a nice thought," Brienne acknowledged with a smirk, "but I just don't see it happening. That family's a curse on this land. Wasn't enough to have Uther butchering our kin; his blasted daughter just had to join in the fun, didn't she, and say she's killing in our name. And now we've got the king looking to follow in his father's footsteps. Once and Future King or not, I say we'd be better off with the Pendragons dead."

Merlin shook his head sadly. He couldn't fault her for feeling that way. Arthur had destroyed any goodwill the people had for him due to the druids' return with his little witch hunt.

"He won't follow in Uther's footsteps," Merlin said wearily. "Arthur has never been as hateful and vicious as his father and sister. I know that doesn't mean much when people are being torn from their families and tossed in the dungeons without trial, but it gives me some comfort to know that, no matter how many people he arrests, Arthur will not allow any innocents to be killed."

Fawn nodded in agreement. "It's true; idiotic as the King may sometimes be, I really wouldn't say he's _evil_."

"That's all very well, but it doesn't change the fact that sorcerers- and anyone even slightly suspicious- are being arrested every day," Mavis said matter-of-factly.

"Let's hope the King listens to reason eventually, eh Merlin?" Aiden sighed.

"Regardless of what Arthur does," Merlin said in a firm voice, "our people _will_ be freed. I hope that Arthur will help us, but with or without him, we _will_ bring magic back. It's my duty, and nothing will get in the way of that, not even my friendship with him."

Merlin blushed as he noticed the others staring at him in surprise for his passionate outburst. Bradan was beaming, and the other three sorcerers looked on him with a bit more respect, while Fawn just rolled her eyes, muttering something about grand pronouncements and obnoxious warlocks. Merlin hissed at her to shut up.

"Well, it's certainly a relief to hear that we needn't rely on Arthur Pendragon to free us," Mavis finally said with a smile.

"Indeed," her twin snorted. "Although, I'm not so sure about it being your duty. You're young yet, lad, and we've all got a responsibility to fight for our people. Hardly fair to expect you to take it all on yourself while the rest of us sit around twiddling our thumbs."

"Quite right, Brienne, quite right," Aiden chuckled, placing his empty bowl back on the dining table and patting his rotund belly in satisfaction. "Good to know we've got the magic druid king on our side, though."

"The magic druid king?" Mavis enquired curiously, as Brienne and Fawn both turned to smirk at Merlin.

Merlin glared up at the ceiling and groaned. Sometimes, he really hated his friends.


	11. A Dumb Jock Attempts Introspection

**Guess who's back with another chapter when she said she would be? Me! I'll be the first to admit that I kinda doubted that I'd be able to finish it in one week, but these short chapters are much easier to write! I'm not sure I'm all that pleased with how this one turned out but maybe I'm just too used to writing lengthy, plot heavy chapters. This is a bit of a turning point for Arthur and the knights so I hope you enjoy it! Writing Leon's pov has been surprisingly a lot of fun so far so I'm thinking about making him a major character just so I can write his pov more lol; let me know what you think!**

* * *

Leon had finally decided to stop dithering. Putting off this conversation would simply make things worse as the knights and townspeople got progressively angrier. With that in mind, he raised his hand and knocked firmly on the door to the king's chambers. A few moments later, he heard Arthur call out that he should enter, followed by Merlin evidently ignoring that and pulling the door open himself.

"Oh, good morning, Leon!" the servant said, face lighting up with a smile when he saw him. And as usual, he neglected to use Leon's appropriate title because he really didn't seem to care at all for social norms. That had once irritated Leon, back when he'd been unenlightened, but now he simply found Merlin's cheerful disregard for propriety oddly charming.

"Sir Leon," the king greeted more sedately, shooting his servant a pointed look which he chose to ignore. Leon hid a smile at their antics even when they weren't speaking to each other; _this_ was why he wasn't as worried about their friendship as everyone else seemed to be. Eventually, Arthur would give in and apologise for whatever he'd done to anger Merlin, and they would be back to being best friends. Leon firmly believed that this was the only possible outcome.

"Good morning, Sire, Merlin," he replied formally, for all that it wasn't exactly formal for him to reply to a servant. He turned his attention to the king and approached him at his desk nervously. At least Arthur seemed to be in not too terrible a mood today, all things considered. "There is a matter I wish to discuss with you, Sire."

"Of course, Sir Leon," Arthur said, gesturing for him to take a seat. He did so, his nervousness increasing tenfold once he was seated.

"Thank you, Sire." Well, there was nothing for it now. It wasn't like he could back out after he'd already requested to speak to Arthur. "There has been some… unrest recently among the knights regarding the search for Emrys-"

Arthur's expression darkened, as Merlin simultaneously let out an awkward cough. "Ah, I see."

Leon gulped. That was not a good sign. "…yes, Sire. The townsfolk are not pleased, either."

"So I've been told," the king replied coolly, not once looking in Merlin's direction. "And what is your view on the matter, Sir Leon?"

Leon really, _really_ did not want to be having this conversation any longer. Perhaps sensing his hesitance, Arthur added in a warmer tone, "You may speak freely, Leon. You know I value your counsel."

"Thank you, Sire," he repeated and did his best to ignore Merlin's long-suffering expression at what he and Gwaine would both call "boot licking" and what everyone else- _normal_ _people_\- would call respect. "While I see the need to find the sorcerer, most of the knights, myself included, do not feel that it is right to arrest those in the lower town who do not actively practice magic, my Lord. Most of those currently being held in the dungeons are guilty of no crime other than owning harmless charms or forbidden books."

The king raised a brow at that. "And is owning enchanted objects not a crime in Camelot, Sir Leon?"

"It is, Sire," Leon acknowledged, then paused to gather his thoughts. He had thought carefully before arriving about how best to persuade Arthur into not turning his own people against him. "There must be a punishment, certainly, for breaking the law. However, I do not believe that imprisonment and possible execution are appropriate for something so trivial."

"Nothing about sorcery is trivial," Arthur replied sharply, at which point Merlin immediately left the room with a disgusted huff. That was- odd. But Leon could think about it later, he decided, seeing that the look of displeasure on his king's face had deepened at Merlin's exit. "It is the greatest danger to Camelot, and I cannot allow it to corrupt my citizens. I will protect my people from sorcery, even if I must draw their ire to do it."

_His people, yes_, Leon thought triumphantly. _Of course that's the key._

"I would expect no less, my Lord," he said smoothly, with the skill of one who had spent long years placating nobles more powerful than himself. "But the prisoners in the dungeons are not sorcerers. They _are_ your people; innocents, ones who were perhaps foolish enough to keep hidden a few charms to ease their lives or bring them good fortune, but innocents nonetheless." Finally, Arthur seemed to at least be listening. "I cannot believe that they meant any harm to Camelot or held any malicious intentions toward their fellow citizens. The townspeople certainly seem to be furious on their behalf, underneath all the fear."

"Fear," Arthur sighed unhappily. "This was never how I wanted to rule my kingdom."

"I know, Sire. But how can the people be anything _but_ fearful? All they see is their families and kin being taken away, simply for being too reluctant to part with the few little luxuries magic once afforded them. They may have been too used to having a good harvest or unfailing good health, and they must be punished lest they think they are above the law, but such drastic measures are unnecessary, especially when those that end up in the dungeons are far too often completely innocent. Fear and panic have people turning against each other and pointing fingers at their own neighbours just to avoid suspicion themselves."

"I feared as much," the king said, "but what other way is there to root out those that may truly be assisting sorcerers? What do you suggest, Sir Leon?"

"Not a witch hunt, certainly," Leon replied immediately. "Wrecking homes and arresting family members will not endear us to the people; it brings to mind the Purge too much. Perhaps a fine, my Lord, for those found to be in possession of forbidden artifacts?"

Arthur hummed noncommittally. "And what of Emrys?"

Leon hesitated. This was the subject Arthur was most stubborn about, thanks to Agravaine's influence. "I do not believe he is in the city at all, Sire. It makes no sense, strategically, for him to remain any longer, and if our searches have been thorough enough to catch all those minor offences, then surely we would have caught the sorcerer by now if he were still within the city. There is only one easy way for him to him to be found now, aside from searching the entire kingdom."

It took a few moments for Arthur to comprehend his meaning, but he immediately shook his head. "I will not condone any violence toward the druids, Sir Leon," he reminded his knight sternly, although at least he longer seemed as displeased as he had been, his countenance softening the longer they spoke.

"That was not what I meant to suggest, Sire. I hold a deep respect for the druid people; they saved my life after all. No, I was suggesting that it might be best to approach the druids- perhaps through their ambassador?- and subtly attempt to gain more information on Emrys. They seem to know him very well."

"The deception does not sit right with me," the king objected quietly. "They are my people, now."

"I know, my Lord. But the sorcerer must be found, and this seems to me the only viable alternative that does not involve any suffering for the people of Camelot."

Arthur was silent for a time, his expression giving nothing away of his thoughts. He was a skilled politician, for all that people tended to forget that in light of his combat prowess. "You've given me much to think about, Sir Leon," he said at last, gaze direct. "I will consider your suggestions, but regardless of what I decide, know that I am grateful for your honesty, and your responsibility in bringing the concerns of the people to my attention."

Leon nodded and rose from his seat; he knew a dismissal when he heard one. With a polite farewell and a bow to his king, he turned around and left the room. There was nothing now to do but wait and hope that Arthur really did listen.

* * *

It was Leon now too.

Arthur had been in a state of constant confusion ever since Guinevere had fought with him. He couldn't understand why both she and Merlin were so incapable of seeing that he had to do what was necessary to protect Camelot, why they were so adamant that his uncle was _wrong_ and that they knew better than him and Agravaine. Eventually, he'd put it down to the two of them being servants; unlike most nobles, he did not actually consider himself any better than commoners, but he _did_ think that perhaps Guinevere and Merlin could not understand the duties and responsibilities he had to bear. They had been brought up very differently, after all; just as he was clueless about most of the struggles commoners faced- staying at Merlin's home in Ealdor had been an unpleasant wakeup call- servants could not be expected to comprehend the difficult decisions a king sometimes had to make. Or so he'd convinced himself. Now, however, even steadfast Leon, always unquestioningly loyal, was objecting to his decisions. It was not that he trusted Sir Leon any more than he did his other friends, but he had known the knight for many more years than he had Guinevere and Merlin, and he knew Leon was aware of how dangerous magic was. For him to so disapprove of Arthur's actions, there had to be a good reason, and it was _not_ that he secretly sympathised with the sorcerers as Merlin possibly did- the king preferred not to think about that.

So who was he supposed to listen to? Merlin, his closest and most loyal friend? Or Agravaine, his uncle, the only family he had left?

Arthur had always believed he had good instincts. They had served him well both in battle and out of it, and Guinevere often told him that he should follow his heart. And he generally tended to do what Guinevere told him to. It wasn't even because he loved her; she was just the wisest person he knew.

Now, however, all his stupid heart was telling him was that he needed to trust both his uncle and Merlin. It was impossible to come to a decision or take sides when they were both so dear to him. The thought of either man leading him astray was incomprehensible, yet clearly, one of them had to be wrong. Arthur put no stock in their accusations of treachery, but considering the fact that they were giving him contradicting advice, he needed to know which of them he could trust to provide sound counsel.

Arthur didn't prefer to use many of his father's lessons these days. Much as he had loved the man, he knew Uther could often be cold, harsh and uncaring, particularly toward those members of their society that he considered beneath him. Some of his father's lessons, though, would serve him well in this situation, he thought. Uther's views on commoners aside, if he considered Merlin and Agravaine two noble advisors, his father would have had him push aside his emotions and consider the consequences that had resulted from each man's advice. Arthur was too close to the two men to be able to trust his heart, and he could no longer stand to remain in this state of uncertainty. Not if it meant he was failing his people in some way. Arthur breathed deeply and settled his mind. He would start with Merlin, he decided; he'd been by his side for much longer, after all.

Merlin was not someone he would initially have considered an advisor but the servant had soon proven his strange, unexpected wisdom. Starting with the time Merlin had advised him (or tried to anyway) not to fight Valiant, Arthur made his way through his memories of his friend. There was the time Merlin had told him about the poison in his drink (and then proceeded to _drink it_, the loyal idiot), and the incident where he'd pleaded with Arthur not to kill the unicorn; he'd been right about that too. Cedric had turned out to actually be Cornelius Sigan, just as Merlin had tried to tell him, and not listening to him about the Lady Catrina being a troll had also proven to be a horrifying and embarrassing mistake. He'd warned him about Morgause, as well, and stopped Arthur from killing his father… The more Arthur thought about it, he realised that Merlin's advice had always proven to be sound. Cornelius Sigan, Lady Catrina, Morgause… and now Agravaine.

But that was different, wasn't it? His uncle wasn't like the others; he was no stranger. Arthur _knew_ him. The very thought was ridiculous and Arthur wasted no time shaking it off. He had to focus on his task.

Then, it was Agravaine's turn. It was hard to remain objective when it came to his uncle, but he had to do it. Not just for his people, but for his own sake too. Arthur didn't think he could stand any more uncertainty about the people closest to him.

Agravaine had come to court as soon as he'd realised that Uther was- not well, and he'd remained by Arthur's side ever since. For that, Arthur was so grateful that he didn't know how he could ever repay the man. That had been a dark and lonely time, with his father broken and the people of Camelot looking to him for leadership in the aftermath of Morgana's treachery. He'd prepared for the role his entire life but he'd always thought his friend- _sister_\- would be by his side when the time came for him to rule. Her betrayal had been like an open wound- it still _was_\- but Agravaine had helped heal some of that hurt. He'd stuck by Arthur, guided him, and shown him that he was not completely alone.

On the other hand, Arthur thought reluctantly, it was Agravaine who had given the order to close the city to refugees when Arthur left to fight the Dorocha. How many of his people would have died had Guinevere not spoken out against the decision? It was Agravaine who'd urged Arthur to kill Carleon, a decision that had spelled disaster for Camelot. Of course, it was as much Arthur's fault as it was his uncle's, he did not deny that; he should have listened to Merlin, to his own heart, rather than trying to gain his dead father's approval. However, the point remained; in that instance, at least, Agravaine's advice had been terribly, horrifically _wrong_. His uncle had also been gravely mistaken about Gaius, and Arthur still felt the guilt of doubting one of his oldest friends. Not to mention all the times he'd criticised Arthur's relationship with Guinevere, simply because of her status. Arthur _knew_ the man to be wrong about that because there was no one more worthy, and wise, and kind…

Arthur determinedly shook off all thoughts of Guinevere; he knew he would not be able to think of anything else otherwise.

It was done; he'd followed his father's teachings to the letter, and there was but one clear conclusion. As much as it pained him to admit it, his uncle, while well-intentioned, was often mistaken. Merlin, however, had yet to lead him astray. That made everything that had happened in the past month between them even worse, Arthur realised guiltily. His best friend had respected and trusted him enough to tell him he was wrong, and Arthur had broken that trust so completely that he wondered if he would ever be forgiven. It was a painful thought; he could scarcely comprehend that Merlin might no longer be a part of his life, that this tension between them might be permanent, but he would accept it. Whatever Merlin thought he deserved, he would accept it and treat the man with the respect he had deserved all along.

He just hoped his friend would continue to help him make the right decisions because, if there was one thing that he'd learned from all of this, it was that he was utterly lost without Merlin's advice.


	12. Bonds That Tie

**Another update on time! I think I'm finally getting the hang of this :D Let's hope I can keep up this updating schedule once the quaratine ends.**

**This chapter finally shows a bit of the relationship between Gwaine and Arthur, which is something I've wanted to write for a while now! You also get to know the three new characters a bit better. Things will probably start to get a bit less happy after this so I'm just enjoying the last few calm chapters I have left lol. Let me know what you think of the chapter!**

Arthur was Up To Something. Merlin was sure of it, and frankly he was a bit worried because Arthur was never Up To Anything _Good_. For all that he meant well, he was generally clueless when it came to human interaction outside of a court meeting or a battle (another mark left by Uther's wonderful parenting). So, Merlin decided, he would stick to his resolution to stay out of the king's business and remain far, far away until whatever scheme Arthur had come up with came to an end. Wouldn't want a repeat of that whole mess with Vivien, after all. Or the one with Sophia. Or that other one with Elena.

Of course, it was entirely possible that Arthur wasn't really planning anything, that Merlin was just jumping to conclusions; perhaps all the furtive looks Arthur had been shooting his way and all of his strangely awkward attempts at starting conversation after weeks of silence didn't really mean anything. Perhaps his odd, private conversations with Leon and Elyan were about something completely innocent. But Merlin knew otherwise. He didn't know _how_ he knew it, but his Arthur Pendragon Is Up To Something- Most Likely Something Disastrous- instincts were tingling, so he stayed away, or at least tried to. But it was not to be.

Merlin peeked around the corner- he'd darted into a separate corridor when he'd realised he was being followed _again_\- and saw Arthur look around in frustration. This was the _fourth_ time this had happened in the past two days, and Merlin really did not know why the king was so determined to speak with him, but he was equally determined not to let it happen. It wasn't spite, really; he just wanted to avoid the awkwardness when it was clear Arthur would never really change. He couldn't simply get over everything Arthur had done and said to him, and he felt no desire to give him what he wanted.

Alright, maybe he _was _spiteful, a little bit. It was justified.

"What are you doing?"

Merlin whirled around with a squeak, slumping in relief once he saw that it was just a very amused Gwaine.

"You scared me!" he huffed. His friend just grinned, the prat. "And I'm hiding from Arthur."

Gwaine blinked at the odd answer then frowned indignantly. "He's not bothering you, is he? Has he said anything? If he is, just say the word and I'll-"

"Calm down, Gwaine," Merlin said with a wide smile. It was nice to having a friend who was still so protective even after learning of his magic. Most of the admittedly few people who knew about his magic tended to feel that he didn't need their protection or concern. Which he didn't, but that was beside the point. "He's just been acting… odd; trying to catch me alone, starting conversations before I manage to escape, that sort of thing. I don't know what to make of it."

The knight was silent for a moment, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Do you think he's trying to mend things between you? Planning another half-hearted apology, perhaps? Or maybe even a proper one?"

"I… doubt it." Merlin looked away, unable to bear his friend's gentle understanding. "Why would he suddenly change now?"

"Because of _you_, Merlin." Gwaine raised a hand to forestall his arguments. "No, listen to me. You've never truly disagreed with him properly before, have you? This is the first time that you've actually decided to put yourself first and cut him off for being an ass. _That's_ what changed. Now, I'm not saying he's decided to finally start acting like a decent person- I don't want you to get your hopes up and be disappointed- but it's _possible_."

Maybe it was. He hoped so, not just for his own sake. All he said, though, was, "Disappointed? Why would I be? I've already got _one_ idiotic knight, and I don't see why I need another."

Gwaine laughed and gave him a gentle shove. "Go on, then, if you're still looking to get away. I'll distract the pig."

"_Thank_ you!" Merlin beamed and gave him a quick wave in farewell before rushing away. Knowing how irritated with the king Gwaine was, he almost wished he could see _that_ confrontation but the urge was outweighed by his reluctance to interact with Arthur in any way. He just hoped his friend would stick to fighting Arthur verbally; one could never tell with Gwaine.

* * *

Arthur was fairly certain that Merlin was avoiding him. Somehow, he knew that Arthur wanted to talk (that wasn't the surprising part; they knew each other very well, after all) and he had so far managed to successfully evade all his attempts to start a conversation, which still confounded Arthur. Since when was Merlin capable of being so quiet and sneaky? Why didn't he use those skills when they were out hunting?

Arthur had a bad feeling that his friend sabotaged their hunts on purpose. If that was the case, Arthur would _murder him_. After he apologised, of course. He just needed to get a hold of him first.

Unfortunately, Sir Gwaine intercepted him before he could continue his search. Arthur stifled a groan; now he knew he definitely wouldn't be speaking to Merlin. If Gwaine wasn't already aiding him in avoiding Arthur, he would begin to do so as soon as he realised Arthur was looking for him.

Things had been… tense between them lately. Arthur knew it was entirely because of Merlin, and he envied the other knight his close friendship to him. Their relationship was different to the one he had with Merlin, more equal. They never seemed to run out of things to speak about, and they were always so completely at ease with each other in a way Arthur had seldom seen Merlin act with him. He'd often joked that it was because of their shared love for wasting their days away in the tavern, but still he was jealous. Not that he would ever admit it to either man.

"Sire," Gwaine greeted neutrally. He did not bow, and the use of Arthur's title was not a sign of repect, coming from him. Gwaine was odd like that; he called him Arthur, or even Princess, to show his respect, while only the stuck up nobles he hated were addressed with their proper titles.

"Sir Gwaine," Arthur replied in kind, wondering if they were to have another unpleasant confrontation right here in the castle. Their screaming matches were usually confined to the training grounds.

"Are you looking for something?" The bastard was smirking, not even trying to hide the fact that he knew Arthur was searching for Merlin.

_When did the knights of Camelot become more loyal to a servant than to their king, anyway?_ Arthur thought grumpily, although all he said aloud was, "I was hoping to speak to my manservant, Sir Gwaine. I don't suppose you know where he is?"

"No, my lord," Gwaine lied blithely. "Finally decided to pull your head out of your ass and beg for forgiveness then, have you?" The implied threat that he had _better_ beg for forgiveness, or else, went unspoken.

Arthur smiled unpleasantly at the man. "You had better watch your tone, Sir Gwaine, or I'll have you put in the stocks."

"Doesn't matter if you do; Merlin's more important. _I_ care about my friends more than I do about appearances," he shot back. Arthur wanted to get angry but that was… fair. He hadn't been acting his best recently, he could admit that.

"So do I," he replied after a tense pause. "I would apologise to him if he would allow me to do so, but he seems determined to avoid my presence."

"Can you blame him?" Gwaine said, although he seemed to have relaxed a bit. It was difficult to be angry with him when he so clearly cared about Merlin's happiness and wellbeing. "You've already _apologised_ before, if you can call that an apology."

"I didn't understand before- I didn't really mean it. Now I do, and I want to… show my appreciation for everything he's done for me. I was wrong. About many things," Arthur stuttered his way through an explanation before stopping abruptly. It wasn't _Gwaine_ he needed to apologise to, although he probably did need the other knight's help if he wanted to speak to Merlin.

"Good," Gwaine said simply, all friendly now that he knew Arthur wanted to make amends. "It's about time you saw sense. He's the best person I know; he deserves better from you."

"I know." Arthur wondered where this was going. Did Gwaine intend to ever tell him where Merlin was? It was one of the things Arthur found most irritating about the knight; he _never shut up_.

"I'll let him know you wish to speak with him. You'll have to give him your apologies in person, though," Gwaine warned. _Finally_. "But you had better respect his decision if he isn't interested in hearing you out or won't accept your apology."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He'd had quite enough of being talked down to, thank you very much. "I can handle my own affairs, Sir Gwaine, and I don't need advice from the likes of you."

The infuriating knight just grinned and walked off with one last parting shot. "Course you don't, Princess."

That- was the first time he'd called Arthur Princess in a long while. It was almost as if he thought it was a _compliment_. Arthur tried not to feel pleased about being called _Princess_, but it felt good to have at least one of his friends back on his side. Of course, he had no illusions about who Gwaine was ultimately loyal to, but he'd made his peace with that long ago.

Now, all he had to do was wait for Merlin to decide whether he wanted to hear him out or not. Not stressful at all.

Perhaps in the meantime he could relieve the stress by having Sir Leon put Gwaine through the most unpleasant duties they had available. That, he thought, would fill up his time quite satisfactorily.

* * *

Things had been going very well. Bradan's lessons were getting progressively more advanced and difficult every day; there didn't seem to be anything the boy wasn't eager to learn, and he was improving at an astonishing rate. Merlin had set him the task of getting all the mud off of Arthur's armour using magic the previous night. He felt slightly guilty about that, but it _was_ a good exercise and it hadn't taken Bradan too long to get it done. Fawn had been very quick to declare that there would be hell to pay if her brother started doing all of his chores using magic. Given the look on the boy's face, Merlin didn't think much of Bradan's promise to do them the regular way, but he didn't see why he should say anything to Fawn. He wouldn't help her if she couldn't figure it out herself.

The three of them had also met up with Aiden, Brienne and Mavis a few more times. Thankfully, their subsequent meetings hadn't been quite as confrontational, and for the first time in his life, Merlin felt… accepted. They were his people; their stories were his stories. They knew what it was like to hide and be afraid, and to struggle against rage and hatred to avoid becoming monsters like so many of their kin.

Aiden had shared that his family knew of his gifts but had thankfully not shown any signs of magic themselves. His wife, two daughters and son all helped him with his work, although his sickly wife hadn't been forced to work before they'd moved to the city. They'd fled their village when the Dorocha attacked, he explained, leaving behind much of what they owned in their desperation to reach the relative safety of the city. His family had then had to rebuild their lives there, with no money to return to their home, which left his wife forced to work despite her illness.

Brienne, it turned out, was not as combative as she'd seemed the first time Merlin had met her. Oh, she was still very passionate and outspoken; she reminded him of Morgana sometimes. _Unlike_ Morgana, however, her passion was not tainted by hatred and bitterness, and her sense of justice was not outweighed by her desire for vengeance. She wanted change and often ranted about all the reasons she despised the Pendragons, but she had no desire to punish all of the ordinary, non-magical folk who stood aside and watched as Uther burned their people. It was hardly their fault, after all, and as a commoner, she understood far better than Morgana what the former king would have done to any peasant who spoke out against him. Brienne's fervour was tempered with compassion, Merlin thought; that was what made her so different from the high priestess.

Unlike her sister, Mavis had chosen to marry and have a child. Her family too had suffered because of the Dorocha; her husband had died in the very first days of the attacks, she'd told them with a blank face belied by the tears in her eyes, and left her and her son, the butcher Fealtor, behind. Like Aiden's children, Fealtor had no magical talents of his own. Mavis was, however, very unlike Aiden in that she kept her magic hidden from her son to protect him, which Aiden thought was ridiculous and dangerous for the young man. The topic was hotly debated for quite some time before Brienne intervened and irritably told the two of them to mind their own business and stop interfering with each other's children. Merlin privately thought Aiden had the right of it but did not think it was wise to bring up that topic again. Besides, he could definitely understand Mavis' position, even if he disagreed with it. She was a rather overprotective and fiercely loyal mother and sister, and he thought that given time, she would probably become very protective of him, Aiden, Bradan and Fawn as well. It wasn't always obvious because of her quiet personality, especially when her sister was so loud in comparison.

Overall, Merlin thought, things were going rather well. He'd grown close to several other sorcerers, and all signs were pointing to Bradan someday becoming quite powerful. More importantly, it made Merlin feel overjoyed to see others like him who were unbroken, who had not allowed themselves to become twisted as Morgana and Edwin and so many others had.

So, of course, _something_ had to come along and destroy his peace of mind. Merlin found it hard to believe that Arthur had decided to completely change all of a sudden. Most likely, this would be another insincere apology in an attempt to make things go back to normal. Still, Gwaine disagreed; he seemed to truly believe that Arthur had somehow had a change of heart, and Merlin trusted Gwaine's judgement. He was not as… worshipful of his king as the other knights were, although he did not know Arthur as well as Merlin did either. It was all very confusing.

Nevertheless, he would at least hear Arthur out before making any decisions. He didn't owe him anything, no, but he did still care for his friend. Of course he cared; it would have been impossible _not_ to after everything they'd been through together. Merlin didn't really believe that he _needed_ Arthur any longer, in order to fulfil his destiny; now he just wanted his- friend back. But not at the price of his own pride and dignity, he vowed. He would never allow himself to be treated that way again, not for Arthur, not for anyone.

The king would have to accept that. He had changed. They had _both _changed, and Merlin was no longer sure if they would ever be capable of being as close as they once were.


	13. Between The Lines

**I know it's been a while since the last update; sorry for the long wait! It's been a rough time and I haven't been able to write but I'm finally back :D The reviews have been so sweet, and it really helped to motivate me and get me through this.  
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**Not sure if anyone's still waiting for this fic to update lol but if you are, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was difficult to write because I feel like Arthur and Merlin's friendship is so important and I wanted to do it justice, but without making them go back to being bffs right away. Let me know what you think!  
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It was time. Arthur took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. It was hard to believe that he was going to have an actual conversation with his best friend for the first time in almost a month, that Merlin had even _agreed_ to speak with him. He felt nervous and ecstatic and terrified and hopeful all at once, and he wistfully wished he could put on his kingly persona, aloof and untouchable, but he knew that wouldn't work. Not with Merlin. He had to face him as honestly and sincerely as he could if he wanted to earn his forgiveness.

Arthur hoped Merlin wouldn't take much longer to show up; he didn't think his nerves could take it. He'd been nervous and absent-minded the entire day already, and if someone asked him what had been said in his morning meetings, he wasn't sure he could answer. Gwaine had pulled him aside last night to inform him that Merlin had agreed to speak with him the next day. When he'd tried to start a conversation immediately that morning, though, he'd been quickly but politely told to leave it for later that evening- they both _did_ have work they needed to be doing, after all- and he hadn't been able to focus on a single thing since. He wondered if Merlin was struggling with his chores as well.

It was just his luck that as soon as he'd given up on appearing calm and started pacing, the door opened and in walked his manservant who _never knocked_. Arthur flushed at being caught pacing like a nervous teenager. It didn't matter that he _did_ feel like a nervous teenager; he should at least try to appear dignified, he thought.

With that in mind, he straightened and casually pretended he hadn't been shaking with nerves a moment before. "Merlin," he greeted his friend cautiously.

"Good evening, Sire." Merlin inclined his head respectfully. It was just as Arthur had expected, really. He'd have to work to earn back their comfortable familiarity. He had no illusions that the lack of a bow meant that all was well once more; all it meant was that Merlin was, and always had been, ridiculously proud even when he was being respectful.

Well, Arthur had promised to show his friend the respect he deserved too. He walked toward the dining table- less formal than his desk, he thought- and pulled out a chair. "Here, have a seat," he said, uncomfortable with the surprise on Merlin's face at such a basic act of decency.

Merlin only hesitated for a moment before accepting his seat with a murmured word of thanks. The two of them sat in painful awkwardness for a few minutes. It was Arthur who had to take the first step, he realised. In almost all of their past interactions, it had always been Merlin to initiate their conversations and try to make amends first whenever they fought, but things were different now. They were _better_, even if it didn't exactly feel like it just then.

Arthur cleared his throat. "So… Merlin," he started nervously, ignoring the amused look his friend was shooting his way. "I think we both know that I owe you an apology- s_everal_ apologies, probably." Merlin just hummed expectantly, so he continued, "Not just for what I said to you weeks ago; almost everything I've said and done to you in the past few years is indefensible. I can't take any of it back, as much as I wish I could, but I promise you that I will do better. I will never disrespect or humiliate you again, and I will try my hardest to show you the respect you deserve."

Arthur waited with bated breath as his friend sat silently for a moment. "Is that all?" Merlin asked after a short pause.

"I- no?" Arthur flushed. He'd never been good with words- at least not ones that weren't related to politics. "I'm sorry, so sorry, Merlin. You're the best person I've ever met, and the most loyal friend anyone could wish for, and I never appreciated that. I took you for granted despite everything you've done for me, and I have no idea how to make up for any of it. All I can do is promise to treat you better and hope that you can eventually forgive me."

"And if I don't?" Merlin challenged. That was a thought that haunted Arthur. Still, he had promised to act honourably, and that meant accepting whatever treatment Merlin thought he deserved.

"Then you don't," he replied simply. "It changes nothing; I will still keep my promise to improve my behaviour, no matter what you decide, and I will respect your decisions."

Merlin seemed shocked at his newfound maturity, which probably should have been offensive, but Arthur couldn't really blame him. He _had_ been an arrogant, conceited idiot for most of the time Merlin had been his servant, and he'd thought that his progressive ideas about servants and druids made him _humble_ and _good_; somehow better than the other nobles. It was a ridiculous delusion that Merlin and Guinevere had thankfully broken.

"Tell me what else I can do, Merlin," Arthur said a little helplessly when Merlin said nothing in reply. "I know that I can be- clueless about some things. If there is anything I _should_ be doing now to make amends for my terrible behaviour, please tell me."

Still Merlin remained silent, his face uncharacteristically expressionless. Just when Arthur was about to give up on getting a reply and offer to give his friend some time to think about what he'd said, Merlin finally spoke. "And what of the search for Emrys?"

Arthur leaned back in his chair, equal parts relieved and anxious. He hoped that this conversation turned out to be better than their previous one. "I must apologise for the way I reacted to your words on that topic, too. You have always given me sound advice, and I owed it to you to at least listen-"

"Enough," Merlin interjected harshly. "Your pretty words mean nothing if you do not act upon them. What are you going to do?"

"I was getting to that." Arthur gulped. He'd never seen the other man so angry but it made sense. As kind as he was, of course Merlin would be more concerned about others' lives than about the way Arthur had insulted him. "Both Guinevere and Sir Leon have approached me regarding this topic, as well. I feel… conflicted; they have made good points, but so has my uncle. He believes that the search must continue for the good of Camelot."

"Of course he does," Merlin muttered darkly.

"With so many differing opinions around me, Merlin," Arthur continued, ignoring the interruption, "I find that I must turn to the one person whose advice has never failed me. I refused to listen to you before, but I will now, if you will let me."

His manservant glared at him. "Are you trying to butter me up?" he demanded.

"No," Arthur sighed. "It's simply the truth, and I think you know me well enough now to be able to tell when I'm trying to lie." Merlin acknowledged that with a nod. "This is no attempt to flatter you, but I _did_ promise to appreciate you as I should, so that is what I intend to do from now on. You'd best get used to it."

"Alright…" Merlin replied faintly. The poor man looked so confused that Arthur decided to bring the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"Now, tell me what you think of the current situation, and I will attempt to not be an idiot about it this time. What do you suggest I do, Merlin?"

Merlin's reply was immediate. "Put a stop to the search and the arrests. Release the prisoners in the dungeons. Apologise to the victims and their families, and compensate them for the damage to their homes and careers."

_Victims. Compensation._ There were so many novel ideas in what Merlin had said that Arthur didn't even know how to begin processing them. He wondered what his father would have thought of apologising to commoners and even _paying_ them. Most of all, he thought Uther would probably be outraged at the thought that they could be considered victims, as though the _king_ had committed a crime against them.

However, Arthur had never truly held with his father's beliefs, even back when he had still been desperately trying to earn his approval. He had said that he'd listen to Merlin, so he would. He _did_ have to ask a few questions first, though.

"How would we even begin to pay for that, though?" he inquired. Best to get that out of the way first, he thought, before discussing the actual search for Emrys. "I took part in a few searches, you know, before I became king. The damage is hardly what I would call dramatic, and I don't see how we would determine the value of anything destroyed by the knights. It just doesn't seem necessary to go to all that effort for a few cheap trinkets."

"Cheap trinkets, you prat? They're not yours; you don't get to decide that they're worthless. They might be _cheap trinkets_ to a rich, spoiled idiot like yourself," Merlin retorted scathingly, "but they're very valuable to people who have little else. Do you think Gaius and I didn't struggle after the searches you conducted in our chambers? Do you think it's simple for anyone who isn't drowning in riches to replace all the broken pots, plates and beakers, the torn books, the lost research, the spilt potions and wasted ingredients? And we're not even as poor as most of the people in the lower town. Not to mention all the money they would have lost with their families locked up in the dungeons and unable to work!"

By the end of his rant, Merlin was seething and Arthur found himself unconsciously shrinking away from his righteous anger. He'd never considered _any_ of that. He had never thought that his decisions were so burdensome to his people. Yet another failing, but he was done feeling sorry for himself and wallowing in self-pity. Now was the time to act, and if he had made a mistake, he would rectify it.

"I didn't realise it was so difficult," he admitted quietly. "It's terrifying sometimes to think of the amount of power I have over all of these people's lives…"

Merlin's expression softened slightly when he saw that the king was genuinely regretful and willing to listen. "Of course you didn't realise," he sighed. "You've never had to worry about any of this. But you need to realise that you're not just the king of the nobles and rich merchants you spend most of your time with; you can't simply listen to their complaints and think that they're giving you an accurate representation of your people's lives. You need advisors and representatives from the commoners, or their voices will never be heard, and you will go on thinking that you're being a good king while your people continue to suffer."

He was right. As usual, Merlin was right. Arthur mentally added it to his list of improvements. It was getting a bit too long now, but Arthur thought Merlin might actually quit his job if he asked him to write it all down for him.

"Then it's a good thing I have an advisor right here who can correct me whenever I'm being an idiot." Merlin snorted and muttered something about him being an idiot all the time. Arthur chose to graciously ignore that. "What would I do without you?"

Merlin didn't smile as he'd hoped he would. "I notice you didn't say anything about the prisoners and Emrys," he said with a suspicious glare.

"I was also getting to that," Arthur said again. It was so odd to see Merlin so antagonistic, but he supposed it was to be expected, given the topic of conversation. "I know you believe that I should simply put the whole thing out of my mind and free all the prisoners, but the fact remains that some of them _were_ sorcerers or at least sympathisers. Leon advised me not to let them all go at once and suggested some alternatives. I'm prepared to have my most trusted knights question each and every single person in the dungeons and release all the innocents- yes, Merlin, gently," Arthur added when he saw the look on his friend's face. "There would be no violent interrogations of the sort my father allowed; I would personally ensure it. I'm even willing to release those who've been found to be in possession of banned objects or magical talismans. You and Leon were right about them; I have no wish to imprison or execute the harmlessly foolish. Leon suggested a fine to stop people from keeping such charms again, but that is all the punishment they would receive. I will, of course, also make reparations to their families as you suggested."

All this Arthur explained patiently and calmly, although on the inside he was quite anxious to hear Merlin's opinion of it. He thought his plans were both effective and merciful, considering that these people _had_ broken the law, but he couldn't bring himself to enjoy the prospect of questioning his own people. Not to mention, he hadn't thought there was anything wrong with his previous plans either until Merlin confronted him. Followed by Guinevere. Followed by Sir Leon.

Merlin looked slightly mollified, but he was still clearly far from satisfied. "Does that mean you will allow the so-called sorcerers and magic sympathisers to be treated inhumanely?" he asked.

Arthur blinked. "What?" What did that have to do with anything?

"You said that the _innocents_ would not be abused during their interrogations," Merlin pointed out. "Where does that leave the other prisoners? Will you allow them to be abused because you suspect they have magic?"

… Arthur had honestly not thought about that. It was an idiotic oversight, but the first lesson he had ever been taught was that sorcerers were the enemy. _All of magic_ was the enemy. It did not occur to him to worry about the treatment of magic users in his dungeon; they were normally so dangerous that one did not tend to worry about their safety and well-being, even if one was not brought up to despise their kind. However, he supposed that locked up in the dungeon as they were, they would be in significantly more danger, especially the sympathisers who lacked magic themselves. Now all Arthur had to do was figure out whether he cared or not about them being abused.

But even as he considered it and heard his father's voice in his head- _they're not _people_, Arthur, they're monsters_\- he felt deeply uncomfortable at the thought of allowing his knights to attack defenceless prisoners. Or were they defenceless? They had magic, didn't they? They could never be considered helpless. Still, it did not sit right with him to abuse his prisoners. Arthur had always looked down on kings who did that, and he would not allow himself to become like them.

He looked up at his servant and finally answered, "No, I would not allow them to be abused. If I go through with this, all of the prisoners would be questioned by knights I trust and then put on trial." He paused. "As for Emrys, do you truly wish for me to allow this sorcerer to roam my lands freely? You _know_ how dangerous magic is, Merlin."

"No, I don't," Merlin retorted. "The only thing I know is that Emrys has not hurt anyone, and neither have the people you locked up in the dungeons. If they've done nothing to harm others, how can you call them criminals or monsters? How can you justify condemning them to death and calling it _justice_? Justice for what exactly? They've hurt no one, and they were just going about their lives peacefully before you arrested them. This is not justice; it's murder." Merlin gazed at him pleadingly. "Just- let them go. You asked me what I thought was the right thing to do, and you said you would listen."

"I did. I will, Merlin," he promised softly.

"Then let them go," Merlin repeated. "I know you believe this plan of yours to question them will harm no one, but it _will_. It already has, and you said you wished to make reparations, but you can't call it an apology to the people then treat them like criminals. It would not be a real apology unless you return _all_ of them to their homes. I don't see the need for any interrogations; they've been living in Camelot for years, haven't they? And they've never caused any trouble or given you a reason to doubt their loyalty."

Arthur had no answer to that. It was difficult to think past everything he'd ever been taught but- _objectively_, he could see where Merlin was coming from, even if he didn't- couldn't- agree with everything he was saying. It was a lot to think about, and he didn't know how to respond to Merlin. So he wouldn't argue, he decided. He would not become the kind of king to disagree simply because he didn't want to admit that he was wrong.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, a little ashamed to announce his ignorance despite his determination to learn to be a better king. He couldn't simply forget everything his father taught him, after all. "I'm completely lost when it comes to the issue of magic and sorcerers, but I've begun to see for some time now that, at the very least, my treatment of the townsfolk has been abominable." He exhaled shakily and finally looked up to meet his friend's gaze. "You- all of you- were right. I wasn't entirely certain before speaking to you tonight, but now my mind is made up. I'm going to let them go."

Merlin's eyes went wide, and Arthur smirked, enjoying his friend's momentary speechlessness. He rarely ever managed to make the other man speechless; it was far too often the other way around. "But- Weren't you just saying you would interrogate them…?"

"It was a suggestion. I wasn't entirely sure of it, and I had a feeling you wouldn't approve either, but I had to ask." He shrugged; he really hadn't considered many of the issues his friend had brought up, but his initial plans had still felt… off somehow. It was a relief to know that at least his instincts could help stop him from making so many idiotic mistakes. Arthur had been ignoring them, he knew, desperate to prove himself to his uncle, but that was no longer a viable option. "It will take some time to get all of it done but- Thank you, Merlin. I'm grateful that you've always been so honest. To the point of rudeness actually," he joked then wanted to smack himself. He really _wasn't_ capable of having an emotional moment without trying to make light of it, but Merlin deserved better from him.

Thankfully, his friend accepted his gratitude with a knowing look. "I'm aware. And you can put me in the stocks if you like. But that's not the kind of king I want you to be."

"What kind is that?"

"The kind who'd rather have bootlickers than friends and would rather earn his people's fear rather than their loyalty. I don't care if you don't like it, or think that it's insolent, because I don't believe in blind loyalty. I will never sit quietly when you are failing your people, and I will always tell you when you have shirked your duty."

"I know. That's why I keep you around."

"Wait, so it's not because of amazing skills as a manservant?" he gasped in mock surprise.

Arthur snorted, then thought of all the things he'd been regretting in the past months. "Your skills are- adequate," he said carefully. _Idiot_. "I mean, not adequate- good. They're good. You're good. Thanks." _Oh my God, how are you so embarrassing?_ Arthur couldn't wait for Merlin to leave so that he could scream at himself. Or drown himself in the bathtub. Both options sounded acceptable at this point.

Merlin's lips twitched. "…My pleasure, Sire."

And oh, he was calling him Sire in that mocking tone once more, and Arthur definitely should not have been pleased about it but he was. He was _very_ pleased and relieved and also _very_ awkward, because he didn't know what to say anymore, and their easy companionship was gone. They sat in silence while Arthur tried to come up with something Not Stupid to say, until Merlin finally spoke.

"I hope you know that I appreciate all of- this," he said with a vague gesture that Arthur took to mean _you growing up and starting to act like a proper king rather than a slightly dysfunctional child_. Or maybe Arthur was reading into it too much. "Not that you're doing us a favour or anything; you should have been listening to others and acting this way from the _beginning_. But still, it's- good. You've grown and I just wanted you to know that I'm, you know-" he gestured again, "-proud of you."

Arthur flushed with mingled pride and embarrassment. He was _not_ a puppy! And he was definitely not happy because his manservant had called him a good boy. "Right, thanks," he managed. "I will do my best to continue to improve."

"You'd better," Merlin replied simply, rising from his seat with a stretch. "I should get some sleep if I'm going to bring you your breakfast before noon tomorrow."

"Yes, go ahead," Arthur said. "Goodnight, Merlin."

As he watched his friend walk out of his chambers, he wondered if the two of them would eventually manage to regain their closeness. Merlin still did not seem to trust him entirely, and he couldn't blame him. He had no doubt that he would continue to hold him at a distance for some time yet before he was certain that Arthur would keep his promises, but he didn't mind waiting. It would be completely worth it to have his friend back, although it would never be the same as it was before. Not just because Arthur refused to mistreat Merlin again, but because Merlin had changed. Or perhaps Arthur had just never known what he was truly like. Whatever the case, the other man seemed- bolder; even more honest and proud than he had been before. Arthur wondered if he appeared as different to Merlin. He hoped so. He _felt_ different, and he knew that, as a king at least, he had certainly begun change his approach.

It was almost too much at times. Life at the castle had always been sort of static; there had always been a comforting constancy to it. Now, everything was changing, including himself. It was uncomfortable and terrifying and uncertain, but Arthur thought he liked it.


	14. Descent

**Agravaine's back! I wanted to write his pov again to explore his personality and motivations a bit more. He's a villain, yes, but most villains don't really consider themselves bad people, and they have their own justifications for their actions. Basically, this is my attempt to make him less of a two dimensional baddie. Enjoy, and leave a review! **

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He was losing control of his nephew.

Agravaine did not know how or when it had happened, but he was sure that his hold over Arthur was beginning to slip, and he knew that he had to do something to fix it. Anything. The thought of Morgana's reaction should he fail… it was too horrifying to even consider. He couldn't fail.

It was all because of the servant, he was sure of it. The wretched boy had done _something_ to turn his nephew against him, and Agravaine's hatred for that pest only grew every day. He simply could not comprehend _why_ Arthur was so determined to listen to servants, especially _that_ one. Merlin may have been a surprisingly capable fighter in secret, but he was still a complete and utter idiot, and it wasn't like Arthur even _knew_ about his servant's hidden skills. No, he just seemed to delight in the boy's apparent incompetence and disrespect. Nevertheless, Agravaine could not seem to get through to him when it came to Merlin, which was saying something, considering the fact that Arthur was so far willing to do literally anything else he asked of him.

It was quite disappointing, really. While Agravaine had intended to work with Morgana against Arthur from the very beginning, he could not help but feel curious about his dear sister's son. He'd met them both already, of course, when they were young- before he was no longer able to stomach his brother-in-law's company. He regretted keeping his distance now; if he'd been there as they grew up, would he have been able to help Morgana? Might she have confided her secret in him instead, rather than that servant? Agravaine tried not to think about it, because there was no point wondering what could have happened if he'd remained in Camelot; he knew he never would have. He'd never hated Uther as deeply as their brother did, but he still despised him for what he'd done to Ygraine, just so he could have a son. Just so he could have _that_ son. Agravaine had reluctantly looked forward to meeting the boy who took his sister's life, but now he just felt… disgusted. _Furious. This_ was the one Ygraine died to create?

It was not just that Arthur was foolish and spineless; he may have believed every word that came out of Agravaine's mouth and followed every idiotic bit of advice he gave him, no matter how much he disagreed, but that was not what infuriated Agravaine the most. It was the way he was so willing to turn his back on his sister when she needed him most; the way he hated magic just as much as his damned father did because of Ygraine's death. As if it had been _Nimueh_ who killed her rather than Uther. Their hypocrisy made him so angry he struggled to conceal his hatred from Arthur, when all he wanted was to see him break and die as pathetic and humiliating a death as his father did.

Agravaine shook his head as he came to a stop before the door to Arthur's chambers. It was dangerous to even entertain such thoughts; if he wanted to keep his true loyalties hidden, he had to immerse himself fully in the role of a loving uncle. Even a single slip up could get him killed, and Agravaine didn't intend to die before seeing Morgana triumphant on the throne of Camelot. He would be patient and remain close to Arthur, no matter how much it turned his stomach to do so.

With that in mind, he finally raised his hand and knocked, waiting for the muffled reply before he opened the door and walked into Arthur's room. He hesitated momentarily as he caught sight of him and resisted the urge to scowl. The king looked content and energised for the first time in weeks; that helpless, broken look he'd sported ever since his favourite servants cut him out of their lives was gone. Now, as he looked up to meet Agravaine's eyes, his gaze was steady and his expression calm- calmer than it had ever been in the time Agravaine had known him, in fact.

"Uncle, good morning," he greeted with a warm smile that Agravaine returned immediately. It wouldn't do to give way his displeasure just yet, not when Arthur was so desperate for love and affection. He reacted so much better to gentleness; another gift courtesy of Uther.

"Good morning, Arthur," he replied, taking a seat across from Arthur. He casually glanced at the scrolls spread out across the desk beneath the king's ink-stained hands. It only took him a few moments to recognise the list of those arrested during the search for Emrys, but he could not make out what the other scrolls could possibly be for. The mess of names, numbers and locations was incomprehensible, and Agravaine privately wondered where his nephew had gotten his atrocious organisational skills. His parents had certainly never been this messy. "You seem quite busy today," he said at last, once he gave up on trying to discern the purpose behind the scrolls.

"Yes," Arthur agreed absent-mindedly, stretching his sore fingers. "We have a lot of work to do in a very limited amount of time."

Agravaine frowned and tried to recall whether they had any pressing matters to attend to, but he came up blank. "Perhaps I can be of assistance?" he offered.

"Of course, Uncle." Arthur agreed readily enough before he continued in a firm tone, "but I will not be talked out of this."

"This?" Agravaine echoed. He had a feeling that he was not going to like whatever came out of Arthur's mouth next, and he was already irritated enough that his nephew had made plans without informing him first.

Arthur did not bother with persuasion. "I will release all of the prisoners we arrested during the past few months," he announced bluntly. "They will all be returned safely to their homes by my own knights. Every one of their families will also be compensated for the damage to their homes and the months they spent in the dungeons."

It took a few moments for Agravaine to get past his shock. When had this happened? How had Arthur gone from willingly arresting anyone even remotely suspicious to freeing all of the prisoners and- _compensating _them? Agravaine felt as though he'd woken up in some bizarre alternate reality, but unfortunately, he knew just how much power the two servants had over Arthur. It had to be them. He should not have been surprised, after witnessing how weak-willed Arthur was, but he'd thought at least that was simply because Agravaine was the only family he had left. Apparently not; it seemed his nephew would let _anyone_ he loved order him about.

He had been silent for too long. Agravaine quickly fixed his expression into one of gentle disapproval. It immediately got the reaction he wanted, he noted with satisfaction. At least he still had _some_ power over his nephew.

"Arthur, I'm sure you can understand my… confusion with this sudden change of heart," he began in a concerned tone. "Do you realise what you're suggesting?"

"It's not a suggestion," Arthur retorted, despite the lingering discomfort in his expression. "As I said earlier, my mind is made up. The people of Camelot have suffered enough over the past years, don't you think? I will not add to their suffering out of needless paranoia."

This just kept getting worse, and Agravaine didn't know if he could fix it. He was once again struck by Arthur's hypocrisy. He could claim to want to protect his people from suffering, then turn around and slaughter them simply because of the way they were born.

No. Agravaine would not allow this. A move like this could lose Morgana allies, he knew; already those treacherous druids had been fooled by Arthur's pretty lies. Agravaine had to talk him out of this, even if he did not know how. All of his efforts to reduce the hold Merlin and Guinevere had over his nephew had failed. Nevertheless, he had to at least try.

"Needless, Arthur?" he reproved. "You know the danger magic poses to Camelot. It must be difficult to punish your own people, but you must be firm. This is for the greater good."

"Whose good? It's certainly not helping the people of Camelot," Arthur argued, and Agravaine was dismayed to see the guilt fading from his eyes. Did he really have so little power over his nephew now? "You've said all of those things before; I know all your arguments. Don't bother, Uncle. You won't change my mind."

Agravaine could continue in that vein, but he could see it wasn't working any longer. It was time to try something else, even though his insides twisted with guilt at the thought of using their memory in this way.

"So you will allow sorcery to remain in Camelot in order to assuage your own guilty conscience?" he demanded, and the anger in his voice was, for once, utterly genuine. Not because of sorcery, of course, but because he was forced to do this. He'd vowed to destroy the last Pendragon, whatever the cost. "Perhaps you have forgotten what magic did to our family, but my memory is not so short."

Arthur froze. "I beg your pardon?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

Agravaine's tone was glacial as he replied, "Magic took my sister from me, and poisoned my brother until he joined her." It was a blatant lie; the real poison, in all of their lives, had always been Uther. "My brother-in-law was killed by sorcerers. Or have you forgotten what happened the _last_ time you decided to give magic a chance?"

It was brutal, he knew. Arthur looked gutted, and for once, Agravaine did not take pleasure in it. _Ygraine, Tristan, I am so sorry_, he thought. This was not the time to break down. He shoved down all of his sorrow and guilt and brought his attention back to- his nephew. His sister's son. Bile rose in his throat, and Arthur's expression did not help matters. Agravaine closed his eyes against it, despite his hatred for the boy.

"I will make allowance for your grief." Arthur's whisper had him opening his eyes once more. "My father felt the same way, and I can understand why. But you will never- _never_\- speak to me that way again, or I will not be so understanding." Agravaine gulped, wide eyed. This was not the reaction he had expected. Grief, guilt, submission- but not _rage_. When had Arthur grown a spine? Before he could come up with a way to salvage the situation, the king continued just as coldly, "And you will not question my orders. This is my kingdom, and I will run it as I see fit."

He hadn't even managed to talk him out of releasing the prisoners? That was unacceptable. He had to do- _something_. He had to accomplish something so that all of this would not have been for nothing. "Arthur-" he began, but did not get any further before he was interrupted.

"My decision is final." Arthur's tone brooked no argument, and he leaned back in his chair with a dismissive wave, his eyes colder than Agravaine had ever seen them. "You may leave."

Agravaine remained frozen in disbelief for a few moments, before he managed to swallow his pride and his fury at his nephew's treatment. He bowed his head and swiftly left the king's chamber. His calm veneer remained in place as he walked through the halls of the castle, until he made it to the privacy of his rooms. Agravaine barely just remembered to lock his door before he lashed out furiously, uncaring of the mess he left in his wake. How dare that boy just dismiss him so disrespectfully, after everything he'd done for him? How dare he act as though he cared about his people now, while the magic users in his kingdom suffered in silence? Agravaine swept his books off the desk and upended the tray on his dining table, glaring as the plates shattered against the stone.

A moment later, he heard a hesitant knock. "My lord?" a muffled voice asked. "Is everything alright?"

His rampage came to an end, his chest heaving as he stared blankly around the destroyed chamber. He was completely numb, blood frozen in his veins. Had he been in a senseless rage a moment earlier? Agravaine couldn't think any longer.

"My lord?" The knock came once again.

He couldn't let anyone see this. "It's alright," he called out. "I dropped something."

The man on the other side quickly murmured apologies. As his footsteps receded, Agravaine blinked heavily and collapsed onto his bed, his anger completely drained out of him. He absently made a note to make time for a visit to Morgana later- soon- and inform her of this new development, because he couldn't bring himself to move just then. Not when he was stuck endlessly reliving the scant moments he had with his siblings, before knighthood and marriage and _death_ had stolen them away. Most people thought of them in terms of what they'd done after meeting Uther, he knew. It made him angry- and immeasurably sad- that everything else about these two bright, wonderful people had been forgotten. He was the only one left to remember.

Before there was a queen of Camelot, before Uther had killed his bride, before an enraged knight had challenged the king and lost, there had been Tristan and Ygraine and Agravaine, and they'd had everything. Lost in the memories of a past life, he ignored the destruction surrounding him and sank into the mattress. He could worry about the state of his room later.


	15. Beginnings

**Here's chapter 15! I know it's a bit shorter than usual, but after writing it I just felt like it was better to split it. I've got most of the next few chapters written, which means that hopefully we're staying on schedule to update every Monday! :D I e****njoyed writing this kind of light filler chapter before all the intense stuff starts up again lol. Leave a review and let me know your thoughts!**

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Arthur had managed to win yet another person back to his side, he thought gleefully. He and Gwaine had an odd relationship, and most would not call them _friends_\- Arthur wouldn't either- but Gwaine was one of his knights. Not just any knights, but one of those who had been by his side when Morgana took over. The two of them- _all_ of them- were more than brothers; even if Arthur was frustrated with Gwaine's irresponsibility, and Gwaine resented his nobility, they would still die for each other. Arthur never doubted that- except maybe when Gwaine went into an overprotective rage over Merlin, but he'd cleared that up with him this morning, with Merlin nodding along supportively.

A hesitant voice interrupted his musing. "Arthur?"

He whirled around, tripped and only just managed to catch himself on the edge of his desk and not fall flat on his face. Arthur straightened with a flushed face that probably gave away his internal mantra of _kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me_. Why couldn't it have been Merlin who'd seen him do that? Or- no, not Merlin; he would have mocked him endlessly. But Leon perhaps? Why did it have to be Guinevere? Especially considering it had been some time since they'd last spoken, Arthur thought despairingly, although he could no longer regret it once he saw the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Guinevere," he greeted her, palms already sweaty. He cleared his throat. "You look- well. Good." She did look beautiful- she always did- but Arthur sometimes truly wished he had Leon's eloquence.

Guinevere did not seem to mind his awkwardness, thankfully. "Thank you, Arthur." She paused. "May I come in?"

"Of course!" he replied immediately and enthusiastically, then cleared his throat once again and tried to tone down his eagerness. "I suppose we do need to talk."

"There's no need to sound so apprehensive," Guinevere said with a smile.

_Isn't there? _"Our last conversation didn't go very well." That was an understatement.

"Yes," Guinevere sighed and took a seat at the table, patting the chair next to her until Arthur took it. "We were both emotional and angry, for good reasons I think."

Very good reasons. "I owe you- and many people- an apology," Arthur started but Guinevere shook her head.

"Not me," she replied firmly. "The people in the lower town, definitely. But I wasn't affected by the searches and arrests. It's not fair for me to receive an apology while they don't, simply because of my- closeness to you." She stumbled shyly over the last words, as she always did.

How could any one person be so incredible? Arthur's chest ached with how much he loved her.

"Of course," he said in reply, "the townspeople will receive an apology as well."

"Yes, Merlin told me. They'll receive a bit more than an apology, if he's to be believed," she trailed off uncertainly. "Are you really paying them?"

Arthur nodded, still getting used to the bizarre idea. "Yes," he answered. "Merlin suggested it, and it seems like the right thing to do; an apology will not give them back their money, time or belongings. My knights have already started to catalogue the losses the people suffered in the past few months so we can begin to repay them."

Guinevere beamed, and his heart skipped a beat. "That's wonderful, Arthur," she exclaimed. Arthur blushed and wondered why he reacted this way whenever she or Merlin praised him. It was _embarrassing_. "I'm proud of you for doing this."

He was too choked up to speak for a few moments, and once he did finally manage to regain his voice, he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge what she'd just said. As Merlin was always eager to remind him, he was 'emotionally stunted' and 'incapable of receiving love and affection'. It was a harsh reminder of his father's distance and iciness, but he would never admit to Merlin how much that hurt him.

"So- we're… alright?" he asked tentatively after he'd recovered from being complimented. "Everything is alright- between us, I mean?"

It took Guinevere a moment to reply, "Yes, of course." An odd expression flashed across her face, disappearing too fast for Arthur to figure out what it was. She gave him a smile when he cocked his head questioningly. "We're alright, Arthur, really. There's nothing wrong with making mistakes as long as you're willing to learn, and you're doing the right thing _now_. That's all that matters."

That was good, wasn't it? Arthur wanted to be relieved but there was something- off about the way Guinevere was speaking. Her approval seemed genuine, but her posture was stiff and her smile unsure. She'd begun tapping her fingers on her thigh as soon as she sat down- a nervous tic Arthur normally found adorable. He wasn't so sure now. He didn't know what was wrong.

"Guinevere, talk to me," he urged softly. "I can see that something is upsetting you. What is it?"

She seemed startled that he'd noticed, immediately shaking her head. "Everything is alright, I promise," she insisted. Arthur guessed that he'd appeared unconvinced, as she repeated, "We're fine, Arthur. I have… something to deal with, but it's not about you- You've done nothing wrong. Really."

That was better, he supposed, although he knew he would keep obsessively trying to figure out what was bothering her. "You could tell me what the problem is," he offered. "Perhaps I could help."

Guinevere's smile returned, but all she said was, "Thank you, Arthur, but you needn't worry. It's really a very silly matter."

"Very well," he conceded. He was a bit unhappy that she was not willing to confide in him, but he could wait until she was ready. If he found out that someone was bothering her, he thought darkly, _then_ he would act. In the meantime, Arthur was mostly just relieved that they weren't at odds any longer. "I will be here for you, if you change your mind."

"I know," she replied, that odd expression from earlier crossing her face once more. "Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur decidedly put Guinevere's strangeness out of his mind and reached out for her, but she quickly dodged out of his reach with a smile.

"We both have work to do, Arthur," she reminded him, her grin growing as he pouted.

"I suppose," he huffed grumpily, and pretended not to notice Guinevere's eyes crinkling as she tried to hide her amusement at his behaviour.

A moment later, she rose from her seat with a sigh. "I'd better get back to work," she said, then gave him an uncertain smile. "We'll see each other later, Arthur."

"Yes," he replied. He wished he knew what was making her uncomfortable. "Goodbye, Guinevere."

As he watched her walk off, Arthur marveled at the way everything had changed so quickly. Had he really been so miserable a week ago? Both Merlin and Guinevere were on speaking terms with him again, Guinevere's strange behaviour aside. But it wasn't just them that made Arthur so happy now; he was content for the first time in months, knowing he'd made the right decision. Although it had angered his uncle, Arthur knew it was the right thing to do, if only because it was the only choice that didn't turn his stomach or keep him up at night.

That didn't mean that he wasn't hurt- and angry- over his uncle's harsh words the previous night. Agravaine had sounded more like Arthur's father than himself. Arthur felt guilty thinking that way about his father, but the man had never been soft or forgiving, even to his own son. A day ago, Arthur would have said his uncle was the complete opposite of Uther- gentle where he was harsh, compassionate where he was unforgiving, calm where he was fierce. After the previous night, though… It was a side to his uncle that Arthur had never seen before. He didn't blame him, of course; Arthur knew that grief and anger made one say terrible things. And it was almost- good to see such clear evidence for Uncle's love for his mother. Arthur's father had not exactly forbidden his court from speaking about the late queen, but there had always been an unspoken understanding that no one would bring up the sensitive topic. Sometimes, Arthur was grateful, but most of the time he wished anyone would just _say her name_. It was almost as though Camelot had collectively forgotten their queen. Clearly, however, his uncle hadn't. Arthur was not alone. That was not to say that he wasn't furious over what Agravaine had said, but… he could forgive him.

The incident with his uncle aside, Arthur thought the past two days had been the best he'd had for months. There was a lot of work to do, but he looked forward to it. He wanted to make amends, to prove to his people that their faith was not misplaced- that he could be _better_. His father probably would not have approved, but when had he ever?

The people's needs had to come first. Arthur had lost sight of that for some time, but he was fortunate enough to have people like Guinevere, Merlin and Leon by his side, and he knew they would never lead him astray.


	16. Of Strength And Prejudice

Merlin was scary when he glared. His brow was furrowed slightly, but that was the only expression on his face. The scary part was his gaze; his normally expressive eyes were glacial as he stared at the unfortunate pair before him. Gwaine almost felt bad for them. _Almost_.

But then again, they'd brought it on themselves, and Gwaine was not inclined to show mercy to idiotic, snobbish nobles who looked down on those less fortunate than themselves. Both knights appeared torn between fear and outrage. They knew that Merlin had the king's ear, that he would never back down, but they chafed at having to listen to a servant.

"Are you alright, Bevin?" he asked, turning away from the knights dismissively. Gwaine watched in delight as they flushed with rage, hands clenching on their sword hilts uselessly. He _loved_ Merlin.

The frightened man he was addressing darted a quick glance toward the knights before he nodded and replied, "I'm just fine, Merlin, thank you. There's no need to be going to so much trouble over me."

Merlin's expression clearly said he disagreed but all he did was incline his head to diffuse the situation. He knew he would not be the one targeted if the knights were to retaliate. Not to mention, there was a curious crowd forming around them as the townspeople strained to see what was happening.

It was like this: Merlin had dragged Gwaine out for a walk to gossip- _discuss_, Merlin corrected, but Gwaine still thought it was gossip- about the recent goings-on in the city. It seemed like everything in Camelot was changing all at once, but Gwaine wasn't complaining; seeing so many joyous reunions in the lower town as the released prisoners returned home was worth actually completing all of the exhausting tasks the Princess set them to do. It did mean, however, that he had very little free time these days, which was why Merlin had grabbed Gwaine the minute he'd learned that he'd gotten some time off. They'd walked aimlessly as they talked- Gwaine wondered how he'd gotten by without friends for all those years- until their path took them past Bevin's house. The scene they'd come across there made Gwaine's blood boil.

Gwaine did not know who Bevin was or what he'd done to get arrested, although he thought Merlin probably did. So did the knights escorting him, apparently, as they seemed to think whatever it was he'd done was a good enough reason to shove the man to the ground and kick him while he was down. Bevin was by no means a small man, but he clearly knew what Sirs Anders and Bedivere would do to him should he try to resist. The two of them also clearly knew they could kill this commoner and get away with it if he were foolish enough to fight back; it was self-defense, they'd say, and their noble families would support them. Gwaine liked to think Arthur would at least try to punish them, but what could he really do without evidence? It was his duty to put the good of Camelot first, and one did not do that by angering powerful nobles.

Unfortunately for Anders and Bedivere, they had witnesses now, and neither Gwaine nor Merlin were limited by such responsibilities as the king was, he thought darkly. Gwaine did not know what his expression looked like, but the two knights seemed almost as wary of him as they were of Merlin. He took that as a compliment.

Gwaine kept his eyes on the pair as Merlin helped Bevin up and led him inside his house. It only took him a few moments return, shutting the door behind him quietly before he turned to face the knights.

"The king ordered us to escort the criminals back to their homes," Sir Bedivere blurted as soon as his gaze met Merlin's. His accomplice shot him a disgusted glare for his cowardice but remained silent.

"Criminals, are they?" Merlin asked with a deceptively soft tone. "Do you think you know better than the king?"

Sir Bedivere shook his head rapidly. "No, of course not!" he denied. "We respect the king's decisions completely."

Gwaine noted that, next to him, Sir Anders' expression said otherwise. They weren't the only ones to disapprove of the Princess' orders, but most of the other knights were too devoted to Arthur, or fearful of being discovered, to so blatantly mistreat their charges. Then again, Anders had always been an arrogant pig, he knew, while Bedivere was a spineless idiot, willing to go along with anything the more powerful knights and nobles told him to do. The two of them probably thought that Anders' wealth and station would protect them from the king's wrath.

Gwaine gave Anders and Bedivere a wide, friendly smile that showed nothing of how he wanted to strangle them both. "Of course you do," he agreed placidly. "And since you've done absolutely nothing wrong, you won't mind me mentioning this little incident to the king, right?"

Anders' lip curled as Bedivere paled dramatically beside him. "Go ahead," he said disdainfully. They both knew that for a noble from a powerful family such as his, there would be little Arthur could do. Bedivere, however, had no such immunity, so at least _someone_ would pay. Anders turned to his cowardly friend and beckoned sharply. "Come, Bedivere. Let's not waste any more time on common trash."

Merlin smiled thinly at that, and Gwaine decided then and there that he would make that _prick_ regret his words. He may not be able to truly punish him, but he _could_ make his life hell on the training grounds, and Arthur would even help when he told him what had happened. It had been a long time since Gwaine had truly considered himself a noble, but he knew that the insults and derogatory comments nobles like Anders used would never affect him the way they did Merlin or the other commoners among the knights. He _hated_ seeing his friends humiliated like that. Sir Anders would not leave the training grounds without being bruised blue and black, until he learned to keep his mouth shut, Gwaine vowed. And he would enlist the other knights' help just to make certain the man couldn't simply avoid him.

His pleasant daydreams of locking Anders and Percival in a room together for a few hours were sadly interrupted as Merlin turned away from the two knights walking off. "This is not what I envisioned doing when I told you to go on a walk with me," he sighed regretfully. Gwaine frowned; his friend was everything that was good and bright and happy. He should never be forced to look so defeated. "I'm sorry this happened during your break; I know you don't get much time off these days."

Gwaine waved off the ridiculous apology. "It's not your fault when other people are pricks," he replied airily. "Will you do the tattling or shall I?"

That drew a laugh from his friend, and Gwaine finally relaxed a bit. "I'll do it," Merlin volunteered with a grin. "I was going to deliver Arthur's laundry now anyway; I might as well tell him about his wayward knights while I'm there."

"Good. He'll be more likely to listen if it's coming from you."

Merlin frowned at that. He'd never liked the tension between Gwaine and Arthur; perhaps he knew how much it had to do with him. "He would listen to you as well," he insisted, and Gwaine nodded agreeably, even though he thought otherwise. Merlin narrowed his eyes knowingly but said nothing further on the matter. "I should go now, then, to make sure I speak to him before those two idiots."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Gwaine said reassuringly. "They wouldn't dare; the only way they come out of this looking good is if they try to make _you_ look bad, and no one's stupid enough to try that in front of the Princess anymore."

"That's not- wait, anymore?" Merlin exclaimed, completely taken aback, as though he didn't notice the countless nobles who disapproved of him. Gwaine took that to mean that he and his fellow knights had done their job well. "I know a lot of people here don't like me, but they've actually tried to make me look bad in front of Arthur?"

Gwaine did not wish for Merlin to find out what they'd said about him; that was the whole _point_ of going to so much effort to shut those nobles up. For once, he and the Princess had been completely on the same page. "Ah, it doesn't matter now," he tried. "They haven't done that in so long."

"Who's they?" Merlin asked persistently. "And what did they say?"

"You don't need to worry about it anymore, trust me," Gwaine replied with an uncharacteristically cold smile. "No one will be trying it again anytime soon; we've made sure of that."

His enigmatic response had Merlin eyeing him uncertainly for a few moments before he finally let go of the matter with a sigh. "Fine, I won't ask anymore," he conceded grouchily. "Keep your secrets, Sir Gwaine; I'll bully one of the other knights into telling me eventually."

Doubtful. "You're welcome to try."

"I will. And you're horribly mean, so I'm leaving now." With that, Merlin stomped off to the castle, his nose in the air, and Gwaine's laughter following him.

Gwaine only fooled around the lower town for a bit after Merlin left, before he thought he should probably head back to prepare for his shift. The incident with Anders and Bedivere had him keeping a sharp eye out as he made his way back to the castle, now suspicious of every knight he saw, but all seemed well. He'd been briefly alarmed to see one of the lower town's butchers being herded by a group of knights he knew to be… problematic (Merlin just hated them because they were Agravaine's cronies, and his deep hatred for the Princess' uncle still amused Gwaine endlessly) but the man had soon emerged unscathed, and Gwaine returned to his chambers with no further incidents.

Still, he would speak with Arthur. He knew Merlin was telling him about what Anders and Bedivere had done, but it was not one isolated incident, and Gwaine was closer to the other knights, and even some of the nobles, than Merlin was. He knew what they did behind closed doors, when they thought no one was watching. Merlin likely also knew- every commoner did, but most would hesitate to speak out against a member of the upper class. Even if they did, how likely was it that anyone but Arthur would listen? As a knight, however, Gwaine's word carried more weight, even if they all thought him a commoner. That was in no way a new development, and one he'd always hated, but with so much change happening in Camelot… Now Gwaine thought he could finally take advantage of it; he could use his power for good. The King was admitting his mistakes and releasing all of the unjustly arrested prisoners, druids were being welcomed back into the city, and a servant was set to become Queen. Perhaps it was time for the status of commoners to change too. Gwaine would make sure of it; his vows as a knight demanded it. He would speak for those who could not speak for themselves.


	17. The Beginning Of The End

**It's almost 2am and I'm exhausted so this chapter wasn't edited. We die like men. (Seriously, though, let me know if you find any mistakes lol).**

**I decided that what we all really need is some Gwen love, because the show really did her dirty. A lot of the characters Deserved Better, but Gwen did most of all, so she is now going on a journey of self-discovery.**

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Merlin's fingers ached, but he refused to say anything. He was used to tiresome, mind-numbing work; he'd never thought he would find anything more distasteful than cleaning horse dung in the stable, but it appeared Mavis was determined to prove him wrong. It wasn't that her work was anywhere near as disgusting as the things he did for Arthur on a regular basis. It was just that sewing wasn't a normal part of Merlin's duties. So far, he'd pricked his fingers four times, his joints were sore, and he had a headache from squinting his eyes for so long. How did Gwen and Mavis do this every day? It was pure _torture_. Nevertheless, Merlin clamped his mouth shut and refused to utter any of his many complaints, because he could see Mavis and her assistants working quickly and efficiently in their own corners. They'd somehow managed to complete several pieces while Merlin was still working on his first. He eyed Mavis' neat work across the room, then glanced down at his own crooked stitches and winced. When he'd volunteered to help Mavis with her work, he hadn't expected it to be this hard, although in hindsight, he could understand what her doubtful look had meant now.

Well, at least he'd learned something new during this visit. He was never going to take his work for granted again, and he was never going to visit one of his new friends unannounced again. All he'd wanted to do was drop by to chat, but he'd quickly been roped into helping Mavis when he'd seen how busy she was. She hadn't _asked_ him to, of course; no, Merlin the idiot had _volunteered_. It was never happening again. Lesson learned.

On the bright side, he and Mavis _had_ spoken a bit, in between rushed orders and demanding customers. Merlin did not know the other sorcerers very well yet, and he was always pleased to learn new things about them. They were all little things, like Mavis' peculiar obsession with order and cleanliness, her quiet humour, so often overshadowed by her sister's more forceful personality, her deep and endless love for pastries, and her recollections of her and Brienne's childhood on the outskirts of Camelot. They were little things, but they mattered, and Merlin was eager to learn all he could about his new friends. They were all too willing to indulge him, and the warmth of their acceptance was overwhelming.

That did not, however, make the current situation any more bearable. Friendship was all very well and good, but Merlin was _in pain_. By the time he let out his third pained whimper in as many minutes, Mavis seemed to have finally decided to take pity on him and dismiss him with an exasperated wave. Merlin did not sprint out of the backroom in relief, but it was a close thing. It was as he was leaving that Merlin ran into a burly man entering the shop. Merlin thought he was vaguely familiar, but it was the resemblance between him and Mavis that immediately gave away his identity.

"Hello, ah, Fealtor?" Merlin greeted the man tentatively.

Mavis' son said nothing in reply, instead choosing to stand stiffly in Merlin's way with narrowed eyes. As his smile faded away uncertainly and the sweet-faced assistant Mavis had stationed in her front room shifted about awkwardly, Merlin gave it a few moments before he started wondering if he should call for Mavis and ask her why her son was so unfriendly. He'd never seen _her_ gaze so cold, and she had certainly never stood in a guest's way like a brick wall for a whole minute. Just when Merlin was about to do something stupid and embarrassing, Mavis appeared in the front room and rescued him.

"Fealtor, you're here!" she exclaimed warmly. Merlin sighed in relief as the other man's intense gaze left him.

"Mother," was all Fealtor said in reply, still frowning.

Merlin had no idea what his problem was, but Mavis seemed to glean something from her son's expression, for she quickly said, "It's alright, Fealtor. He's a friend."

"A friend," Fealtor echoed. "You've certainly spent a lot of time with him recently. What's he doing here?"

Merlin blinked, equal parts affronted and bewildered. Was it him they were talking about? Why would Fealtor find his presence so distasteful?

"He's just visiting, son," Mavis answered tiredly. "Now, come in and let him pass." She was already turning around to head back into her backroom as she gave the order.

Fealtor's cool grey eyes soon turned back to Merlin, and he sighed once more. The entire situation was exhausting, and he wanted to go back home to complain to Gaius about his poor bruised fingers. The man before him clearly had other plans, though.

"What do you want with my mother?" he demanded as soon as Mavis disappeared behind the thick curtain concealing her shop's backroom.

"Uh, nothing?" How was he meant to respond to this? "I really was just stopping by for a chat."

That did nothing to appease Fealtor. "A chat. Is that all?" he asked suspiciously. "There's nothing… else?"

Wha- no. He could not seriously be implying what Merlin thought he was implying, could he? The thought was so ridiculously laughable, but Merlin was too horrified to appreciate that just then.

"No! Nothing else," he squeaked. "Really! We just became friends recently, that's all; you can ask our other friends. Aiden, or Fawn- oh, your aunt, too! She'll tell you there's nothing- uh, untoward going on."

Fealtor's gaze sharpened as he let Merlin squirm for a few long moments in silence, but he eventually nodded. "Of course," he responded with something like disgust, for all that he seemed deep in thought. "Perhaps I _will_ ask my aunt to keep an eye out."

"You do that," Merlin mumbled helplessly. He had never been _so uncomfortable in his life, ever_, and he wondered why he'd wanted to visit Mavis in the first place. Friendship, who?

Fealtor stepped aside with one last glare, and Merlin finally managed to flee the shop. As he walked- ran- back to the safety of the castle, he silently vowed never to set foot inside Mavis' shop again. In fact, he was never going to see her again outside of Brienne's presence. Maybe he _didn't_ need to get to know her better, after all. He had other friends; why not Brienne? Or Aiden. Aiden was nice.

He prayed that Aiden's children, at least, did not try to murder him if he stopped by to see their father.

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Gwen had always believed in true love. It was silly, especially for a level-headed, practical woman like herself, and she'd never told anyone that she entertained such ridiculous thoughts, but deep down, she'd always believed in soulmates. People who could complete each other. People who could never fall out of love because they were _meant to be_.

She was starting to think that she'd been wrong.

The thought had made her feel so guilty at first, so unworthy and disloyal. After all, how could she have doubts when she was so loved? How could she consider leaving when Arthur risked so much for her just by declaring his love? It had seemed like a forgone conclusion; Arthur loved her and risked his station for her, so they would be together. They had to. She could do no less for him; she owed him for all of it, didn't she? After everything they'd been through together, there was no other way for it to end.

It was only recently that she began to realise how _wrong_ it all was. At some point during Merlin's long rants about responsibility and pride and their rights as servants, Gwen had begun to harbour those doubts. It wasn't that she hadn't loved Arthur from the very beginning. She had, even when Lancelot had been alive. Day after day, mistake after mistake, she had still loved and accepted Arthur for all his faults. She still did, really; none of this was his fault. Recent events had, perhaps, had a hand in opening her eyes to the truth, but it was less about Arthur's actions and more about her reactions to them. Gwen had never been passive but she had to admit that, for a while now, she had allowed herself to be wilfully blind in order to stick to her illusion of love and safety.

It no longer felt like safety. Why had she ever thought she owed Arthur anything for loving her? If he had risked anything for her, she had risked just as much for him in return, if not more. Yes, he risked displeasing his nobles, but Gwen risked her _life_. She had almost been executed once already because of their relationship, but all she heard every day, from the other servants when they thought she wasn't listening or the nobles had no such compunction, was envious talk of how fortunate she was, how generous and noble Arthur was, how she should have been more grateful that someone so far above her station would even look twice at her. The comments- and derisive looks- had always bothered her but she'd done her best not to think about them until recently. Mostly, Gwen had tried to be grateful for those who _had_ supported her- mainly the women she worked with, who were just ecstatic for her and determined to defend her from the vicious comments the others made. While almost all of the nobles reacted the same way, among the servants, she'd expected most of the anger and jealousy to come from women but she had been sorely mistaken. She had no idea why so many men were so hateful toward her; Fawn had told her they hated to see a woman of their station rise above them. Whatever the reason, Gwen had been even more determined to be happy with Arthur to spite all of the petty busybodies and watch them burn with envy. Deep down, though, a part of her had agreed slightly with the things they said. A part of her had believed that she had to pay Arthur back, as though he was doing a favour by loving her.

If Merlin or Fawn had ever heard her say that, Gwen thought they would have been furious. _She_ felt furious, with herself and everyone who'd ever told her she deserved less, but mostly she felt tired. She had always tried her best to be selfless and kind no matter what, but she was so _tired_; for once, Gwen wanted to put herself first. She wanted to take some time for herself, to consider her options and think about what _she _wanted. She wanted to learn what it felt like to love and be loved without guilt or pressure, to know if it was worth it to give up her life and everything she knew just for one man. She wanted to speak with her brother and her two best friends and tell them how she felt without worrying that they would call her fickle or ungrateful. She wanted to control her own fate rather than passively going along with what everyone else thought she should do.

Gwen wanted so much more than they thought she deserved. And she was starting to learn that perhaps that was a good thing.

It was awful to think of Arthur's reaction when she told him all of this- because of course she would; she had to. She did not owe him her love, but she did owe him an explanation, because it had never been his fault. Gwen could blame many of the nobles and servants for everything she'd been through, but not him. Arthur really _had_ been perfect to her, if not to everyone else, and she still loved him, really. She just needed to decide if that love was worth more to her than her whole life and the future she'd always envisioned for herself. Some might have said she was being ridiculous, that she should take her chance to be queen and count her blessings, but it wasn't that simple. Gwen knew nothing of that life, and she had never wanted any part of it. As happy as Arthur made her, she was sad so much of the time too. These days, it felt like she could hardly do anything without being suffocated by loss and grief, even when it came to the littlest things. Every time she began sewing a new piece for her buyers, or ran an errand with Fawn, or went picking flowers with Merlin, all she could do was wonder if she would ever get the chance to do any of it again if she were to marry Arthur.

Perhaps she was being cowardly. Perhaps change was a natural part of life that she should have accepted and even welcomed without complaint. Gwen didn't know, but she thought she deserved to get the chance to figure it all out. Arthur would wait for her, or he wouldn't, but it didn't matter. At the very least, she would not spend the rest of her life plagued with doubt and regret.

_Is it worth it?_ she asked herself once again, no closer to receiving an answer. _Is being with Arthur worth losing everything else?_


	18. Then There Were Three

**Another Agravaine chapter, althought this one is more focused on his siblings. I've always wanted to know more about Ygraine and Tristan, so this is my take on everything! After this one, we'll be back to Merlin's pov because I miss him lol, so enjoy the last of Agravaine (for a while at least)!**

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When he was a child, Agravaine had thought his older sister and brother would always be by his side. He was too young to truly understand things such as knighthood and marriage, and he'd naively believed that nothing would ever come between the three of them. That none of them would ever need anyone but each other. Their parents may have been distant, and their remaining relatives envious of their status, but Agravaine had never been unhappy, nor wanted for anything in his young life. There was no problem his brother could not solve, no hurt his sister's hugs could not soothe, no dream the three of them could not reach together. During those golden years, everything had been so _simple_. Agravaine and his siblings had been so bright and innocent, then; they had known no suffering, and their lives had stretched on endlessly before them. On good days, Agravaine remembered Tristan as he was, powerful and arrogant and so completely certain of his place in the world, so determined to become a knight and let nothing stand in his way. He remembered Ygraine's quiet strength and conviction, her commitment to her ideals no matter what people said. So many had foolishly mistaken her kindness and compassion for weakness, only to be proven wrong.

When Agravaine remembered those days now, they almost seemed like a dream. Then, Tristan left to begin his knighthood training. Then, Ygraine was married off to the king to advance their family's position. Had she been afraid? Agravaine could not remember; all he'd known at the time was that he was being abandoned, and Ygraine had spent the months leading up to her wedding comforting him. There'd been no one left to do it after she was gone. He'd lost her to Uther, and Agravaine had thought he knew what it meant to hate, then. He'd been so angry, so lost, without his siblings that he refused to visit them for years. How much time had he wasted in his jealousy? He'd missed so much of the most important part of their lives, and he hadn't known then that he would never get the chance to make up for it. Eventually, though, he _had_ gone to visit them, and for all that his relationship with his parents had been rocky at best, Agravaine would always be grateful that they'd pushed him to see his siblings one last time before they were both lost to him forever. He had gotten to see his brother, proud and fearless in his armour; his sister glowing at the start of her pregnancy, so elated to finally be with child that she spent hours every day talking his and Tristan's ears off about her plans for them. Frustrating as it was, neither of them could begrudge her her joy, especially not when she had to live with _Uther_.

The three siblings had an unspoken agreement not to discuss Uther Pendragon, after they'd had one too many fights over it. Neither Agravaine nor Tristan believed that such a man could ever be worthy of their sister, but it upset Ygraine to hear them say that, for she had hoped to at least _try_ to have a happy marriage, even though it had been arranged by their parents. She was good like that, always trying to make the best of things, and it seemed to have charmed Uther- for a time at least. The king showered her with gifts and subdued all of the vicious gossip about her when she failed to produce an heir for so long, and the people said she was the kindest queen Camelot had ever had. It was enough. Ygraine was happy, and so her brothers swallowed their pride and played nice with her husband.

Until the king, too, learned what so many others had- that Ygraine never backed down, that she always did what she believed was right. Agravaine had not even known what happened that day, when he'd been told the queen was facing off against the knights in the lower town. He hadn't really cared in his panic, as he'd rushed to find her, but Tristan had explained everything to him later. It had all started because of a _peasant_, who'd rejected the advances of a nobleman with a powerful position in Uther's court. The man was pathetic enough to complain of it to his king, and Uther was disdainful enough of commoners to have his knights try to arrest her for her audacity in refusing to offer her services to a noble. It was repulsive, but Agravaine did not think a commoner's life was worth his sister's. He was the only one who thought that way, though, out of the three of them; Ygraine had often preached justice and equality, and Tristan had always hidden a kind heart beneath his loud and arrogant attitude. And so Agravaine was not surprised that Ygraine had been so quick to take the peasant's side. He had arrived at the lower town to his sister standing proudly before the woman, heedless of the knights surrounding her. They'd been uncertain, hesitant to move against their queen but unwilling to defy their king. One had even tried to reach around Ygraine, but she'd spread her arms wide and shielded the peasant woman with her body. Oh, how Agravaine had tried to dissuade her, how the knights had pleaded with her to move aside, but his sister had remained firmly in place and told them in that calm tone of hers that if they wanted to arrest that innocent woman, they would have to go through her. Almost an hour later, the knights gave up; the woman wasn't going anywhere, after all. They figured they could come back for her later, and so they trudged back to the castle and spoke with their king. They complained to him of the queen's disobedience, and they did not know that, at that very moment, Ygraine was smuggling a woman out of the city. Their search of the lower town the next day came up empty. The king was furious; he demanded Ygraine tell him where she'd hidden the woman, but none of his questions were answered, and soon all of Camelot knew that their queen had openly defied the king.

Then, things changed. Uther grew cold and harsh with Ygraine. The court started whispering once more about the lack of an heir- _the barren queen_, they called her snidely. The king visited Lady Vivian while her husband was away; Agravaine did not know it then, and he would not find out for many years, but Uther betrayed Ygraine even then. Uther ordered his court sorceress to give him an heir.

Ygraine died. She died, and all of a sudden, Uther decided that he loved his wife, despite his betrayal. She died, and her grief-stricken brother tried to avenge her, but followed her to his death instead. She died, and the king slaughtered hundreds in her name, until no one thought she was the kindest queen Camelot had ever known any longer. She died, and they cursed her name for _his_ sins.

She died, and her son lived. Agravaine would never forgive him for that.

He'd let himself get distracted by that serving boy. Merlin needed to be put in his place, of course, but Agravaine could not lose sight of the bigger picture. Later, when Arthur was dead and gone, he could do as he wished with the boy. After all, Agravaine had waited almost twenty years to have his revenge on Uther Pendragon. He could be patient.

For now, he and Morgana would make sure Arthur was reunited with his dear father. Ygraine and Tristan would be avenged if it was the last thing Agravaine ever did.


	19. This Isn't As Easy As It Looks

Merlin truly regretted introducing his friends to each other. They were all very different people with different backgrounds and personalities, but the one thing they all seemed to agree on was tormenting Merlin. And they tended to get creative with it.

It started with Merlin- naïve, foolish Merlin- dragging Gwaine over with him to Fawn's house to cheer Bradan up. Their lessons had been going well, really; Bradan progressed rapidly from learning how to access his power to mastering his control over flame with an ease that astonished all of the other sorcerers. Well, not Merlin, but that was only because he still had no idea what a normal person's progress looked like. Of course, he was soon made to regret saying that out loud when Gwaine, Fawn and Brienne took it upon themselves to mock him- _oh, Bradan, you're just too slow for the _great_ Emrys_, they simpered, _how he must suffer, putting up with us frail, pathetic mortals_\- while the rest of their friends snickered in the background. Nevertheless, Merlin fancied himself a kind, decent person, so he did not put an end to the lessons and abandon Bradan as payback, and the two of them continued to meet for five weeks, during which Bradan began to attempt moving objects with his mind.

Five weeks later, Bradan was still incapable of moving the smallest matchstick even one inch, although they'd briefly gotten their hopes up when Merlin had accidentally shifted it with his breath. Both of them had immediately- and loudly- begun to celebrate before they'd calmed down enough to hear Fawn informing them that she'd seen Merlin breathe on the stick. It was disappointing, Merlin thought privately, but he did not want Bradan to feel discouraged. He just waved the matter off airily and convinced Bradan to try something else.

Then followed several attempts at easier spells, with a lot of input from Gaius and the other magic users they knew. Gaius suggested locking or unlocking spells, as they required less power and concentration than moving objects did. Bradan did not manage to perform a single spell, even when Gwaine had locked him in an empty room for hours to properly motivate him. Heating and cooling spells, Brienne offered; she'd figured that Bradan's proficiency with fire might mean he had an affinity for temperature spells. She was mistaken, and Bradan was growing progressively more distressed with his lack of progress. _Perhaps you could teach him to control the other elements_, Aiden said, and Merlin dutifully obliged, although he doubted that he would succeed. Elemental spells were, after all, some of the most difficult, even for an experienced sorcerer. As expected, Bradan failed at all but the fire spells. It was Mavis who finally suggested that Merlin continue to teach the boy more complex fire spells, and that was that.

Needless to say, Bradan was desolate, and nothing Fawn or Merlin did seemed to cheer the boy up. Merlin felt a bit discouraged, himself; he knew that some sorcerers simply had a strong affinity for one school of magic, but surely they could at least perform basic spells? His other friends had found Bradan's situation equally puzzling, so he knew it was not just another one of those _Emrys things_, as Fawn liked to call them. Nevertheless, Merlin determinedly put the issue out of his mind and did not let his student see even a trace of doubt. Something had to be done, but that could wait; for now, consoling Bradan was the priority.

Which brought Merlin here, surrounded by his awful friends and regretting his kindness (that was a lie, but none of them needed to know that. He'd been soft enough with everyone recently). Gwaine lounged on the floor near his feet, with a bright-eyed Bradan nodding along adoringly to everything he said, and the knight was unashamedly soaking up the attention. Of course, Fawn, being an actual demon, did nothing to curb their behaviour and just sat there with serene smile on her face- that is, when she was not joining in to bully Merlin.

"But really, he's so powerful and, uh, Emrys-y," Gwaine was saying to his attentive audience of one, "except when he's just being plain embarrassing because he doesn't know how to deal with flirty nobles."

_Emrys-y_. Merlin's brow twitched. "Are you sure you shouldn't be getting back home now, Gwaine?" he said sweetly, gripping his friend's shoulder tight enough to make him wince, although that irritating grin did not leave his face. "I hear Arthur's going to have you up extra early for your new duties."

Gwaine groaned at the reminder. Reporting the two knights who'd abused Bevin had definitely been the right thing to do, but it did mean that Gwaine, along with the other knights Arthur trusted to respect the townsfolk, had suddenly found themselves burdened with a far heavier load of duties. They were expected to carry out all of the duties associated with Arthur's attempt to make amends, and the king had put Gwaine in charge of the operation, to everyone's surprise. It was a great honour to be given that responsibility, and Merlin was ecstatic for his friend. Gwaine was pleased too, he knew, for all that he whined and pretended that it was all a terrible imposition.

"Don't remind me," Gwaine said darkly as he finally managed to free his shoulder from Merlin's grasp. "Waking up at dawn- I can't _believe_ he'd do that to me."

"Aw, is the poor, privileged knight complaining about waking up early and having to work all day?" Fawn said unsympathetically.

How the tables had turned. Merlin chimed in with relish, "How absolutely terrible. You knights must be the most hardworking folk in all of Camelot."

"I heard they only get one day off a week," Bradan added, albeit a bit shyer than his sister and Merlin. He wasn't quite used to their banter yet, especially with a knight.

"Just _one_ day a week?" Merlin gasped. "That's way less than the zero days off that I get!"

"Alright, alright, stop bullying me," Gwaine finally said. "I'll stop complaining about my simple, luxurious job in front of you. Although, I think we should note that at least you don't have to worry about dying on the job."

They were all silent for a moment, registering what Gwaine had had the audacity to say, then- "Don't we?" Merlin asked with narrowed eyes. "Don't we, _really_?"

"Uh, never mind," Gwaine muttered quickly. "You're just changing the subject, anyway, so that I don't tell Bradan about the time you jumped down a flight of stairs and twisted your ankle just to get away from a particularly persistent noblewom-"

Merlin slapped a hand over Gwaine's mouth. "Gwaine. Do you really think I wouldn't curse you just because we're friends?" The knight made to protest. Merlin added, "Remember what happened to Elyan."

Gwaine paled dramatically and jumped to his feet with a shaky smile. "You're absolutely right, Merlin. I should go back to the castle and get some sleep. Goodnight, Fawn, Badan." And with that he shot out the door as Merlin snickered at his swift exit.

A moment later, Bradan asked brightly, "How did you explain why your ankle was twisted to Arthur, though?"

Fawn snorted as Merlin's head whipped around. "_Shut up_, Bradan."


	20. Never Alone

**Gwen's back! And she's finally ready to talk to her bffs about everything that happened with Arthur. I'm curious to see whether everyone thinks Arwen is endgame or not! Although, their story isn't really the main focus here, so there won't be a lot of chapters dedicated to it. **

**I'm thinking of writing another fic for this fandom (after this one's done, of course). It would be an avatar AU because I can't get the thought of zuko!Merlin and avatar!Arthur out of my head lol. I feel like people would expect it to be the other way around but I'm really not sure. Would anyone be interested in reading that fic? Leave a review, and let me know what you think!**

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"Men are all trash, anyway," Fawn said sagely while she scrubbed at the wet cloth in the tub before her.

Gwen sighed as Merlin nodded his agreement. She appreciated her friends' unquestioning support but she hadn't even told them what had happened yet. The three of them sat at their respective workstations, dutifully doing the laundry even as they talked. It was a tradition they'd worked hard to keep up over the years, with their conflicting duties and unpredictable schedules; they still always managed to meet up this way during work at least a few times a week. Gwen had figured this would be the perfect time to bring up her situation with Arthur and the rather uncomfortable conversation she'd had with him about it. She'd barely just told Fawn and Merlin that she and Arthur were going through a rough patch in their relationship when her friends both made it very clear that they were absolutely willing and ready to teach Arthur a lesson, if she so wished. It was heartwarming, if unnecessary.

"Arthur hasn't done anything," she said, ignoring the doubtful looks Fawn shot her. At least Merlin seemed convinced, but he _did_ know Arthur best out of the three of them. "He really hasn't. It's just… I've been thinking about our relationship recently, and I- Arthur and I aren't together anymore." There, she'd said it.

Merlin dropped Arthur's robe back into the tub with a splash. Judging by the looks of shock he and Fawn were sporting, that was not something they'd ever expected to happen. Gwen knew most people considered her and Arthur inseparable, but that just brought her back to the toxic thoughts she'd been entertaining for the past week. She wished everyone would stop _assuming_. It seemed even Arthur had started doing the same, and Gwen still cringed every time she remembered their conversation.

She had decided to approach Arthur after he was mostly done with his duties for the day; she did not want to distract him from his work, after all. He'd been as warm and ecstatic as ever at seeing her, and _she'd_ just been- nauseous. Perhaps it had been obvious- something in her hesitance to sit with him, or in her insincere smile- because Arthur's welcoming expression had immediately shifted to one of concern, and with a bit of coaxing, it all came out. Arthur had been- had _attempted_ to be understanding at first, perhaps thinking that everything would be alright if he were to just put her doubts to rest. As the conversation progressed and the depth of her reluctance became evident, however, he'd grown angry and defensive. _You want to just give up on us, after everything I've given up for you_, he'd said and looked so wounded that she'd almost agreed with him for a moment. _I've never let any obstacles or doubts stop me; I love you enough to fight for us. Do you not feel the same?_

_What obstacles,_ she'd wanted to ask, but Gwen had promised herself she wouldn't let the conversation devolve into a fight. All she'd said was that she wanted to put her needs first and take some time to consider her options; he could wait for her if he so wished, but she would never ask him to do so. _Selfish, _he'd called her_. Fickle._ And with that, she'd lost her temper, all of her rage and humiliation at everyone's treatment of her- in stark contrast to their treatment of Arthur- spilling past her lips in a poisonous flood that had Arthur's eyes widening, his anger utterly drained. He'd looked more shamefaced then, and asked in a small voice why she hadn't told him; he would've put an end to the rumours and defended her, but she- hadn't wanted to say anything. Gwen never wanted to burden anyone with her troubles, especially not Arthur. She held no resentment toward him for not noticing the way everyone had been treating her, but how _dare_ he claim that he'd suffered more for them? Arthur seemed to have forgotten the _multiple_ times she'd almost been executed, and the _multiple_ times he'd told her she wasn't appropriate because of her station. He'd flinched when she'd reminded him in a voice cold as ice, and his apology had finally calm her down enough to think past the haze of fury and hurt and bring the conversation back on track.

The two of them hadn't spent much longer speaking after that- just long enough for Arthur to apologise once more and promise to wait for her, and for Gwen to reluctantly warn him that there was no guarantee she'd decide to restart their relationship. His flinch had hurt her, because she really _did_ still love Arthur, but it was worth it for the sense of freedom it brought her, if nothing else.

It didn't take very long for Gwen to relate the whole sorry tale to her friends while they both sat there, their work now completely abandoned even as she finished hers. She didn't _exactly_ take pleasure in the dumbfounded looks on both Merlin and Fawn's faces, but they _were_ entertaining. Just a bit.

There was a heavy pause once she was done speaking, her best friends blinking slowly as they allowed this new reality to sink in. A moment later, Fawn lunged toward Gwen and gathered her up in a slightly suffocating hug.

"Oh, that must have been difficult," she murmured sympathetically as Gwen returned the hug and relaxed in her arms. "It was definitely the right thing to do, though, in case you had any doubts."

Gwen hid her smile in the other woman's neck, so relieved she could hardly speak for a moment. It wasn't that she'd thought her best friends would be unsupportive, but she'd feared they too would think she was being ungrateful, or fickle. It was an utterly ridiculous fear, she now realised.

"Thanks, Fawn," she finally replied. "And don't worry; I don't have any doubts about this."

"Good," Fawn said firmly, before she pulled out of the hug. Gwen blinked as she caught sight of Merlin and remembered he was still there, the fear returning at once. He was her friend, of course, but he was Arthur's too. Would he be upset with her for hurting him? It certainly seemed that way, considering how oddly silent he'd been; Merlin was _never_ silent.

She cleared her throat. "Merlin?"

"Hm?" He blinked at her in confusion.

"You've been too quiet," Fawn pointed out drily. "Gwen's probably worried that you've been possessed."

"You're hilarious," was all Merlin told her in a flat tone before he turned to Gwen once more. "I didn't want to intrude, considering I probably couldn't understand what you've been going through; I know you would not have been targeted quite as much, had you been a man."

That was considerate of him. Gwen would appreciate it more once she made sure he wasn't angry with her. "So… you're not mad?"

"Why would _he_ be mad?" Fawn asked indignantly.

"Yes, why _would_ I?" Merlin echoed, even as he poked Fawn in the shoulder to shush her.

"Well, I know Arthur's your best friend…" Gwen trailed off when she saw two sets of narrowed eyes glaring at her. "I would understand if you were upset on his behalf. He's- feeling very hurt right now."

Before Fawn could say something undoubtedly offensive about Arthur and his feelings, Merlin said with a huff, "What, and _you're_ not my friend? _You_ haven't been feeling hurt by everything that's been going on since you chose him? You made the best decision for yourself, and Arthur's a big boy; he can deal with it! I'd never be angry with you for doing something that's good for you, just because Arthur's going to get hurt."

Gwen felt her eyes fill with tears. Oh, she was so lucky to have such wonderful friends. All of her worries seemed very silly, now; how could she have ever thought they wouldn't stand by her?

"I'm so proud of you," Merlin added softly. "It was probably not an easy choice to make, and I am _so_ proud of you for being brave enough to go through with it."

That proved to be too much for Gwen. Her eyes overflowed with tears, and she was soon crying in Fawn's arms once more. They were happy tears, though. She may have made one of the most difficult decisions in her life, and she did not know if it would end up hurting her, but sitting there, surrounded by the two dearest friends who'd stood by her through everything, Gwen knew she would be alright.


	21. Of Pain And Endless Suffering

**Thank you to everyone who's been leaving reviews! They make me so happy :') In return, here's almost 1.7k words of Merlin being a drama queen!**

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Merlin reached up to rub his forehead absently as he read, only to still at the loud _crack_ that broke the silence. He blinked and looked up from his book. The source of the sound soon became clear as he straightened, at once feeling- and hearing- his entire body complain at the slumped position it had been forced into for several hours. It was probably time for a break, he thought wryly; he didn't want to imagine what Gaius would say if he saw him neglecting his health this way.

Dim light shone through the small, hidden chamber he'd once discovered in the library, although he'd been a bit too preoccupied with a goblin to appreciate its significance at the time. Later, though, he'd returned to this place and found exactly what he'd hoped to find- this place was a relic from before Uther came to power. Most of the library- most of _Camelot_\- had been purged of any information on magic, but this place remained untouched. Merlin was frankly a bit embarrassed by how excited he'd been when he'd seen the magic books. Thankfully, Gaius too had been excited at the prospect of so much knowledge, although he'd been far more graceful about it.

As Merlin stretched and rose to pace around the room, the blood rushing back through his numb limbs, he remained preoccupied with one idea he'd read about in the now abandoned book. His search for a solution to Bradan's issues with spells had taken him through every magic book he could get his hands on, and even some tomes he'd found in the ordinary sections of the library. Surprisingly, the most useful hint he'd come across had been in a non-magical book. The study of elements was not necessarily magical, after all, and Merlin felt like a bit of an idiot for not thinking of it earlier.

It had been a book on alchemy that held the information Merlin needed. By that point, he'd been so immersed in the book that it had taken him a while to realise he'd found something relevant. _The most important of the elements in alchemy, however, is fire, for it is the element of transformation and will. _He'd read the line a few times before startling Gaius with a loud exclamation and rushing off to the library without answering his guardian's concerned inquiries. One search through the magical section later, he'd found enough to confirm that the same principle applied when it came to spells. A considerable portion of fire spells was placed in the same category as transformation spells, he learned, because they felt very similar when being cast. The book did not explain that further, so he filed the information away for later.

Merlin had no idea if there was any merit to the theory but it was the best he could find. If Bradan managed to succeed in mastering transformation spells, Merlin would know he'd been right. Otherwise, he thought with no small amount of dread, he would go back to searching. It had all been fascinating, of course, and extremely useful; Merlin had learned more about magical theory in the past few weeks than he had his entire life. He couldn't wait to try out some of the spells he'd read about. _However_, he thought it was a bit much to be expected to spend most of his very limited free time cooped up in the library or his room. His back- his _entire_ _body_\- was sore, and his eyes had taken to twitching uncontrollably, and he couldn't remember when he'd last slept. He'd also been forced to neglect some of his duties as the physician's apprentice, and although Gaius claimed he could handle it, Merlin didn't think his guardian should do all of that work alone at his age.

Bradan was going to cast those spells even if Merlin had to force him into doing it.

Once he felt like he was no longer in danger of falling over, Merlin collected his books- yes, they were _his_ now- and carefully returned them to their shelves, leaving out only the one he'd been reading so he could show it to Gaius. Long used to carrying things he really shouldn't around the castle right under the guards' noses, he slid the book under his jacket and strode out of the hidden chamber after a quick peek to make sure no one was near. By the time he reached his and Gaius' rooms, he was even more convinced that _this_ was what Bradan needed. He'd always been told that his instinctive understanding of magic was remarkable, and right now, his intuition was telling him that he'd found the solution. Still, it would be good to get Gaius' opinion; he'd studied magic for longer than Merlin has been alive, after all.

Merlin slipped into their rooms with a bright greeting, sighing as his guardian hummed without looking up from his book. He made his way to their worktable and plopped himself across from Gaius. Ah, he couldn't wait until he could do this without having to worry about his research, exhaustion and sleep deprivation. He thought he might have lost a bit of weight during the past few days, too. Nonetheless, Merlin's tiredness had yet to stop him from being a nuisance, and he determinedly whined and poked at Gaius' book to get his attention.

"Gaius, stop ignoring meee," he wailed. "Gaius. Gaius, look at me. Gaius!"

He covered the pages of the book with his hand, and his guardian finally looked up at him with a long-suffering expression. "Yes, Merlin?" he replied, although what his eyes said was _you were my greatest mistake. _

Merlin sat up happily and lifted his hand away from the book. "Remember in the morning when I read something, rushed out of here, then stayed out all day, and you didn't even come to check up on me?" Gaius looked as though he was about to protest, but Merlin pulled out his book and forged on, "That was because I found something to help Bradan! I think. But I wanted to show it to you first to make sure it's actually useful; can't get his hopes up for nothing, right?"

Gaius leaned forward with interest. "What was it that you found?"

"Oh, so _now_ you're interested, because it's about Bradan. I see how it is," Merlin said sourly, making a face at Gaius when all he did was shoot him an unimpressed glare. Teasing him really was no fun, unlike Arthur. He sighed in defeat and flipped the book open to the page he'd marked, long used to ignoring the pained noises Gaius made when he saw him mark books this way. "Here, it's this passage."

He waited impatiently as Gaius studied the page with a furrowed brow. Merlin had read the passage himself, and he _knew_ for a fact that it was just about six lines. It couldn't possibly take that long to read them. Gaius placed his hand over Merlin's to stop his tapping without looking up from the book.

Eventually, an _eternity_ later, he leaned back in his seat and hummed thoughtfully. Merlin couldn't hold his impatience in check in any longer. "Well?" he asked eagerly. "What do you think?"

"It is a plausible theory; it could very well work. I'd almost forgotten you had a perfectly functional brain under that thick skull of yours, with how little you use it," Gaius said. By the time Merlin was done deciding whether to be flattered or offended, his guardian had moved on. "However, there are a few issues with the implementation."

Of course there were, Merlin thought grouchily. It could never just be that easy. "Which are…?" he prompted.

"Transformation is generally one of the most difficult branches of magic," Gaius pointed out. "How do you intend on teaching it to a beginner?"

He really hated his life sometimes. "Well, Bradan does seem to have an affinity for it. Won't that make it easier?"

"Yes, it might make it only very difficult, rather than impossible," Gaius replied dryly. His eyes softened as he watched his ward groan and slump in defeat. "The theory is sound, Merlin. You just need to find a way to apply it to Bradan."

"Find a way to teach a beginner who can't even master locking spells an extremely advanced branch of magic that I don't have much experience with." Right. Merlin nodded firmly. Right, he could do this. _Could_ he do this? He really had no idea.

"Well, then it's time for you to begin studying, isn't it?" Gaius said smugly. He always acted that way when Merlin was forced to study. It wasn't as if he never studied on his own! He just- he was busy all the time. And he hated studying, but that wasn't relevant.

"Fine, I'll study," he muttered with a pout. Truly, no one had ever suffered as much as he did.

"If anyone can do it, Merlin, it's you. You understand magic on an intrinsic level, in ways that no one else could." Merlin blushed and preened at the same time, so unused to praise that it was a bit dizzying. "You just need to master transformation, and learn which spells would be easiest for someone as unexperienced as Bradan. And, of course, you know that you can always come to me if you need any assistance."

"I know," Merlin replied warmly. "Thanks, Gaius. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Let us hope you never find out. Now, go and start studying. You've got a lot of work ahead of you."

Merlin made a face at that. "Never mind, I take it all back. You're awful."

He ignored Gaius' smug smile and went to sulk in his room. No matter _what_ Gaius said, he definitely wasn't about to start studying right away; he needed to prepare mentally and emotionally for this terrible ordeal. Studying could wait for a bit.


	22. Paradigm Shift

**I'm back! I didn't update last week because this chapter was so difficult to write, and I decided to rewrite it halfway through lol. Things are heating up now; Arthur having to use his head might be the biggest plot twist so far. I was a bit nervous about posting this so let me know what you think!**

* * *

Merlin and Arthur sat across from each other in complete silence. They'd been at odds for months, but Merlin wondered if they'd ever been this awkward, even then. As soon as Arthur had felt awake and full enough to function, he'd beckoned Merlin over to sit across from him at his desk and announced that they needed to talk with the most uncomfortable look on his face, before falling silent.

A full minute later, Merlin was starting to sweat nervously. He realised Arthur was probably still rather sensitive about everything that happened with Gwen, but he wasn't certain if he should push him to speak. Would it be better to give him time? But then again, he knew Arthur would never talk about his feelings if given the choice.

Mind made up, he cleared his throat and spoke. "It's alright if you're upset, you know. Or if you want to talk about it."

"Uh. What?" Arthur asked, looking lost.

This was painfully awkward, but Merlin was determined to let his friend know he was there for him. "I just mean that there's no shame in feeling hurt by everything that's happened with Gwen. I won't think any less of you for it, so- there's no need to act all tough and stoic in front of me. I'm here, if you want to talk about it." There, that was nice and coherent, wasn't it?

But Arthur was looking at him with something between embarrassment and horror. "That is _not_ what I wanted to speak to you about! How do you even kno-" He cut himself off, while Merlin was still coming to terms with how badly he'd misjudged the situation. "Never mind, don't answer that. What happened between G-Guinevere and I is private, and I have no interest in speaking of it with you or anyone else. Ever."

It was entirely as he'd expected, even though he still wished Arthur would open up about his feelings, as Gwen had. He'd caught his stutter over her name, and the pain in his eyes as he spoke, but he knew his friend well enough to realise he wouldn't react well to being pushed. "Alright, but the offer stands, if you ever change your mind." Arthur's expression clearly said that would never happen and that he wished they were talking about literally anything else. Merlin took pity on him and changed the subject. "So, what _did_ you want to talk to me about?"

Arthur latched onto the question all too eagerly. "Ah, yes. I didn't want to have this conversation again, but I'm afraid it's necessary, and running away from my problems isn't going to solve them."

Merlin tried to ignore the rising feeling of foreboding. "Right…" he said slowly. "Which problems are we talking about, again?"

"It's Emrys. Who else?" Arthur sighed. At least Merlin knew he wasn't the only one who was thoroughly sick of bloody Emrys. "We put the conversation on hold so that we could focus on the more important aspects, such as freeing the people in the dungeons and putting an end to the searches. Now that I've delegated these tasks to my knights and they're all well underway, however, we have time to consider how to deal with this sorcerer."

For a moment, Merlin truly wished he could strangle Aithne for mentioning Emrys in the first place, but his irritation soon faded, only to be replaced by guilt. None of this was Aithne's fault, and she'd suffered enough because of him. He hoped she was well now, safe once more with her people.

There was one thing he needed to be sure of, though. "When you say _deal with_, do you mean…?" Merlin trailed off, unsure how to politely say _kidnap and publically murder_.

It seemed, however, that Arthur was set on surprising him today. "That's part of what we're discussing," he admitted with a curled lip. "You made it clear that you don't believe this sorcerer should be punished, despite the fact that he's, you know. A _sorcerer_."

Merlin scowled at his least favourite friend and replied in the most scathing tone he could manage, "And? He didn't hurt anyone! Is it a crime now just to have magic?"

Arthur blinked. "Yes, actually."

Hmm. That was a good point. "Well," Merlin said angrily. "Well, that's stupid!"

"Merlin-"

"What makes you think you have the right to kill people just for the way they were born?"

"They're not _born_ with magic, Merlin," Arthur refuted in that confident, obnoxious tone of his. "They learn it and use it to hurt others, just for power. Surely you don't think anyone can just be born that way- born evil?"

He was so stupid.

"Yes, exactly! No one is born evil, and no one should be punished for something they can't help!" Merlin took a calming breath. "Some people _are_ born with magic. Don't argue," he said sharply when it looked like Arthur would object. "I know more about this than you do. Many of the books about magic that aren't available to others, Gaius and I are allowed to read as physicians. People _can_ be born with magic- your sister was."

Arthur looked like he didn't know what to do with that information. "Wh- But- I've never heard of this before. Gaius never said anything about this."

"Oh, because Uther would have listened?" Merlin asked sarcastically. "He must have known, anyway. He lived before the Purge, and he's the one who banned all of these books so no one else would know he's been killing _innocents_."

"Innocents? But you've seen how terrible sorcery is. You've seen how devious and cruel sorcerers are," Arthur said almost pleadingly. "How would we know that they _haven't_ hurt anyone? And who's to say that they won't in the future, even if they haven't already? Morgana lived right here with us for _years_ before her treachery was revealed."

"Before it was revealed to _you_," Merlin sniffed disdainfully. "_Some_ of us knew from the beginning because _some_ of us aren't wilfully blind." He hadn't meant to say that, but it was too late to take it back even if he wanted to. Arthur looked desperate to ask about it, but he couldn't seem to get his mouth to function. Merlin continued, "It always comes back to Morgana with you. It's beginning to feel more like a personal vendetta to me, even if you're doing it subconsciously. Your sister betrayed you, so you're taking it out on everyone else."

If Merlin weren't always so offensive, he thought Arthur would have looked more shocked at that. "It's not just Morgana," he argued. "Or have you forgotten Morgause, Edwin, Nimueh, Dragoon, and every other sorcerer we've ever come across?"

"_Every_ other sorcerer, really?" Merlin replied coldly. "Perhaps you've forgotten Balinor? Or the druids who saved Sir Leon's life? That unknown sorcerer who sent you a light in the cave in the forest of Balor? _Will_, who gave his life to save yours?"

Arthur was silent. He had nothing to say to that.

"I can assure you that he never hurt anyone, that he was never _cruel_ or _devious_!" Merlin cried. He hated himself- for lying, for using Will like this, for letting his best friend die in the first place- but he needed Arthur to _see_. "You never fail to condemn magic whenever a sorcerer hurts you, but when magic is used for good, you seem strangely willing to pretend it never happened. Are you so afraid that the beliefs you've held your whole life will turn out to be wrong that you refuse to _think_?"

He'd never spoken to Arthur that way. The pain and resentment he'd harboured all these years spilled out of his mouth as he watched his friend grow paler and paler. He didn't how long the deafening silence that followed lasted; it could have been minutes, but it felt like years passed before Arthur spoke again.

"How do you know that Morgana was born with magic?" was all he said, in a small voice that Merlin had never heard him use before.

Merlin looked down into his lap. He'd known it would come up, but he'd never wanted to speak of that time again. After a short pause, he replied, "Her dreams- they were visions. Everything that she dreamed would happen eventually came to pass. She didn't realise it was magic until- until she started that fire in her room."

He heard Arthur's sharp intake of breath, but he did not look up at him. "I remember. That was her? Why would she start a fire in her own room?"

"It wasn't on _purpose_, you prat," Merlin muttered. "People like her- those who are born with magic- have no choice about using it. If they try to avoid it, it will simply come out in uncontrollable bursts instead. It could kill them, eventually, if they continue to hold it in." Not to mention how painful it was to stop using magic altogether, but he couldn't think of a way to say that without explaining how he knew that detail.

"Oh," was Arthur's eloquent response.

"Funny, isn't it? Die if you use magic, die if you don't. Either way, they'll die." Merlin tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "And you wonder why some sorcerers are driven to madness."

There was no response. He looked up to see Arthur with an unusually thoughtful expression, although he was still pale with shock. It wasn't easy, Merlin supposed, to have your beliefs- your entire way of life- so rapidly dismantled. He should have felt sorry for his friend, but he did not feel particularly generous just then. He just felt tired.

"Thank you," Arthur said at last, "for telling me. I don't know what I'm going to do but- I'm glad you've told me all of this."

"Are you going to listen?"

"I said I would, didn't I? I can't guarantee that I will agree with you, but I promised I would at least listen to what you have to say." Arthur tried for a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "You've given me a lot to think about. But I still need to find some things out for myself."

Merlin figured he probably wanted to ask Gaius to confirm what he'd said about magic. It was probably for the best; Gaius could explain things so much better than him, and he knew far more about Morgana's visions as well.

"Very well," Merlin replied. "Just as long as you do think about it. You _were_ the one who said avoiding your problems won't make them go away."

"Yes, yes, I will," Arthur huffed. "I wish I could make _you_ go away. Don't you have some work you need to be doing?"

Some things never changed, and Arthur's lack of manners was a universal constant at this point.

As Merlin set to work and watched Arthur leave for the training grounds, he wondered if it would do any good. It seemed like a wild fantasy, that Arthur would listen or change his mind about magic. All Merlin could do was wait, and pray that his words had gotten through to him.


End file.
